


Her Breath, His Land: A Collection of Niloy Oneshots

by queenofkadara



Series: The World and All Its Lessons: A Song of Aloy and Nil [6]
Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Backstory, Character Development, Dom!Nil comes out to play a lot, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Nil and Aloy are too cute, Romance, Smut, Sparring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-01-15 08:25:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 71,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12317361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofkadara/pseuds/queenofkadara
Summary: A collection of oneshots about Nil and Aloy's ongoing adventures together, all taking place afterStormbirds and Stalkers.NSFW smut in chapters 3, 4, 9, 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, and 18.  Also seethis set of smutty oneshotsfor more smut.





	1. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nil catches a cold, and Aloy bears it with a poor temper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It’s getting on cold and flu season, you guys! In honour of this, err, shitty time of year, I’ve decided to explore how Aloy and Nil would deal with Nil catching the illustrious Man-Cold, which everyone knows is exponentially worse than a regular cold.  
> (；一_一)

Nil coughed, then sniffled and cleared his throat.

Aloy threw him a concerned look as they rode north on their Broadheads. “Are you okay?” she asked. He’d been coughing and sniffling with increasing frequency all morning.

He cleared his throat again, then shrugged easily. “I’m fine. It’s just a cough,” he said, then he coughed again. 

Aloy frowned. “I think you’re getting a cold.” She fumbled around in her medicine pouch until she found some ochrebloom roots, then reached over to hand them to Nil. “Here, chew these. They’ll help to head it off. They’re more effective as a tea, but until we settle down-” 

Nil shook his head and waved her away. “No, no. I don’t need that. It’s just a cough.” 

Aloy tilted her head chidingly and raised her eyebrows. “Are you going to do that thing that you do when you’re injured and pretend nothing is wrong when it obviously is?”

Nil frowned at her. “I’m not injured. And I don’t do a _thing._ It’s just a cough.” Stubbornly he refused to take the ochrebloom roots from her hand, even as he cleared his throat yet again. 

Aloy shook her head in exasperation. “Fine. But I’m making you a tea when we settle down.”

*****************

By the time they made camp that evening, Nil was coughing every couple of minutes. Aloy had encouraged him to drink more water throughout the day as his cough sounded quite dry, but he’d stubbornly insisted that he was fine.

Aloy pursed her lips as she stirred a herbal brew of ochrebloom roots and winterfresh leaves in a small collapsible pot Petra had made for them. “You have to drink this,” she scolded Nil, who was sitting sullenly just behind her. “Whether you have a cold or not, this will boost your ability to heal. And the winterfresh will soothe your throat.” 

“My throat is fine,” Nil grumbled. “Suntress, you don’t need to fuss.”

“I’m not fussing!” Aloy protested. “I’m being practical. You keep coughing all night, you’re going to draw attention from bandits. Is that what you want?”

Nil tilted his head thoughtfully to the side, and Aloy glared at him. “The answer is _no_ , Nil. _We’re_ the ones who approach the bandits, not the other way around.” She pulled the pot from the fire and set it to cool slightly on a flat rock, then she kneeled in front of Nil and laid her hand across his forehead. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What are you doing?” he asked flatly. 

“Checking you for a fever,” she replied briskly. Then a sheepish smile broke over her face. “Okay, fine, maybe I’m fussing. A bit.”

Nil’s lips lifted in a half-smile, and he pulled her down to sit beside him with an arm around her waist. “I’m not sick, Suntress. I don’t need your savage brew. I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.” 

Aloy _tsk_ ed and punched his arm before settling down with her legs crossed. “It’s not a _savage brew_ , you lunk. I know for a fact that the Carja healers make something similar. And you won’t get a good night’s sleep if you don’t drink it,” she scolded. 

Suddenly Nil took her face in his hands and kissed her. Aloy instinctively parted her lips at the firm insistence of his mouth. She welcomed the stroke of his tongue against hers before abruptly pushing him away. “Nil!” she sputtered. “You’re probably sick! You’re going to make _me_ sick!” 

“And then you can fuss about yourself instead of me,” he replied with a smug smirk. Then he coughed yet _again_. 

“All-Mother’s bloody mercy,” Aloy muttered in exasperation, and she grabbed the pot of ochrebloom-and-winterfresh and thrust it towards him. “Drink this right now. Or else.” 

Nil ducked away from her. “ _You_ drink it.”

Aloy scoffed incredulously. She couldn’t believe he was being so obstreperous! She put the pot down briefly, then swiftly she straddled his hips so he couldn’t escape her. Triumphantly she grabbed the pot again and held it up to his lips. “Drink or drown, Carja. I’m not playing around.”

Nil laughed, but his laugh became a hacking cough that made Aloy scowl. “All right, all right,” he conceded, and he took the pot from her and drank the brew in five large gulps. Then he tossed the pot aside and grabbed her hips, pulling her firmly against his groin. “I only drank it because you asked so nicely,” he purred. 

Aloy rolled her eyes in exasperation, but she couldn’t help but smile and slide her arms around his neck. “I’ll keep that in mind for the next time you’re on the wrong side of a bandit’s bow,” she deadpanned. 

“You mean you’ll keep that in mind for never?” Nil replied cockily, and Aloy smirked at his confidence. “Sure, whatever you say. Now come on, let’s get some sleep. We’re settling down early, so we can head out early tomorrow.” 

Nil shrugged amiably and allowed her to roll off of his lap. Then he followed her into their small tent and they curled up to go to sleep.

****************

Aloy’s brew seemed to do the trick for the first part of the night, but as night wore on, Nil’s cough came back with a vengeance. His sniffling got worse too, and started to take on a congested quality. The noise he was making was so disruptive that Aloy eventually gave up on sleep and crawled quietly out of the tent, loathe to disturb his fitful slumber but unwilling to listen to him hacking and snorting in close quarters for another few hours. 

She sat by the fire and used her Focus to swipe through her scanned copies of Elisabet’s journals and her own notes about GAIA Prime. Eventually her eyelids became heavy, and she dozed for a while in front of the fire with her back against a boulder. 

Aloy woke with a jerk when the sound of Nil’s throat-clearing approached her. She opened her eyes to find him crawling out of the tent, looking vaguely pitiful. 

“What are you doing out here?” he asked. Aloy hesitated before responding; she figured it would be unkind if she told him she’d left the tent because his incessant coughing kind of made her want to smack him. Diplomatically she said, “I couldn’t sleep. I was just going through some notes.” 

Nil sniffled, then laid his head in her lap. “I don’t feel well,” he admitted grudgingly. 

Aloy bit her lip and stifled her automatic response, which was not far off from _I told you so_. “You have a cold. Of course you don’t feel well,” she replied briskly. But a bolt of tenderness pierced her annoyance, and she gently stroked her fingers along his scalp until he fell into an albeit cough-infested doze. 

After a couple more hours during which Aloy didn’t sleep and Nil coughed and snored, Aloy shook his shoulder gently and suggested they strike camp and head out. 

******************

The next two days passed in a miserable cloud of Nil’s coughing and nose-blowing, and Aloy’s irritation grew: not because of Nil’s symptoms, which weren't his fault, but because he _complained_.

At one point, Aloy asked him to catch a rabbit for their lunch while she built up the fire. “I can't,” Nil replied. 

Aloy raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Why? What's wrong?” she asked.

Nil sat by the fire and gave her a long-suffering look. “I'm sick,” he said, as though she didn't already know. 

She frowned in confusion. “What does that have to do with hunting?” she asked. 

Nil continued to look at her like she was being obtuse. “I don't feel well. I don't want to hunt.”

Aloy’s eyebrows jumped even higher until she was sure they were tucked in her hairline. Even when she was a child, Rost hadn't accepted a cold as an excuse to not do the chores that needed to be done. Nothing short of a fever or croup would have prevented her from carrying on with the activities of daily life. And now Nil was trying to get out of hunting because of a common _cold?_

Aloy folded her arms and raised her chin. “You'll feel better if you keep doing normal things,” she told him curtly. Rost had taught her this, and she believed it very firmly. “The sicker you act, the sicker you'll feel. Go on, go catch us a rabbit. I'll make half of it into a soup for you. Then you can rest.” 

Nil crumpled his face into a petulant pout. “I really don’t want to,” he groaned. 

Aloy stared at him, stunned and exasperated. Nil could tolerate pain better than anyone she knew. He’d suffered countless arrows and crossbows and knife wounds and bruises as a soldier; he’d survived crush injuries and burns over most of his body from Helis’s attack when they were at Sunfall, and then he’d run half-healed from Free Heap to Meridian in order to fling himself headfirst into another battle. And now he was _whining_ about having a tiny little cold?

Aloy couldn’t help it. She laughed at him incredulously. Unfortunately, this only made him more inclined to complain. 

Nil glared at her, then lay down on his back beside the fire with a groan. “Suntress, I’m tired. My head hurts.” And then he coughed again. 

Aloy sighed loudly, then sat down and rifled through her medicine pouch bad-temperedly for cold remedies for the umpteenth time. Brusquely she set up Petra’s pot to make Nil another brew before clucking at him to sit up and force-feeding him some hintergold for his headache. She shoved a fresh tissue into his hand. “You’re an experienced solo traveller. How can you not carry any cold remedies?” she railed at him.

He blew his nose and tossed the tissue in the fire, then shrugged. “It’s been years since I had a cold. I blame you,” he added. 

“ _Me?_ How do you figure that?” she demanded. Nil smirked ruefully at her. “When you avoid settlements, you avoid people. Including sick, contagious people. Now we go into villages all the time. All those people with their germs, children running around with runny noses…” He gave her a piteous look. 

Despite her annoyance, the corner of her lip lifted in a smile at the would-be pathetic look on his face. The impact of his puppy-dog eyes was pretty much cancelled out by the violence that was always lying just beneath his skin, ready to rouse at any moment. “If you’re looking for an apology, you’re not going to get one,” she informed him matter-of-factly. But finally she rose to her feet and lifted her bow onto her back. “I’ll hunt, okay? But _you_ will drink that brew,” she commanded in a severe voice. “It better be gone by the time I get back.” She scowled at him until he shrugged benignly, then stalked off to catch a rabbit.

Some time later, Aloy returned to the fire and was mildly gratified to find that Nil had drunk the ochrebloom-and-winterfresh tea as she’d commanded, but he looked more miserable than ever as she skinned the rabbit and set it on a spit to roast. “I can’t breathe through my nose,” he complained; indeed, his voice had a distinctly hyponasal sound.

Aloy bit the inside of her cheek to stop from laughing. She kneeled in front of him with her little pot of winterfresh ointment, then gently rubbed some of the ointment on his chest and dabbed a tiny bit under his nose. “This should help,” she told him softly. Then, in an equally soft voice, she asked, “Did you whine this much when you got sick as a soldier?”

Nil recoiled from her, looking deeply offended. “I am not _whining,_ ” he protested, and Aloy finally laughed. It was hard to take his offense seriously when he sounded so stuffy. “Then what would _you_ call it?” she asked. 

Nil folded his arms petulantly. “I’m stating facts,” he said. Aloy rolled her eyes, then crawled back towards the fire to turn the spitted rabbit. “Well, try stating your facts more quietly so I don’t have to hear them,” she replied. 

Suddenly Nil grabbed her waist and dragged her back towards him, then nuzzled her face roughly, smearing the winterfresh ointment from his nose onto her cheek. Aloy squealed in disgust and struggled to free herself, but his strong arms were locked around her, keeping her captive in his lap. “Nil! You’re disgusting! Let me go!” she cried. 

He snickered vindictively. “Never,” he purred against her ear. “You’re stuck with me and my _whining_. I hope you enjoy germs as much as I know you enjoy hunting bandits.” 

“I really don’t enjoy either,” she insisted haughtily, but she stopped struggling against his embrace. Even when he was gross and infectious, Aloy couldn’t help but appreciate the heat of his arms wrapped around her.

But his words had given her an idea. If anything would perk Nil up and bring him out of his complaint-laden funk, it was hunting bandits. 

*****************

The next day, Aloy and Nil crept through the long grass towards Dervahl’s old camp, where a bandit clan had opportunistically set down roots. It was an unfortunately well-reinforced spot for the bandits to roost, and Aloy and Nil would have to be strategic in their attack if they wanted to take the bandits out unscathed. 

Aloy tapped her Focus and counted the bandits: there were a solid two dozen of them. She turned to Nil. “Let’s sneak up to that higher ridge,” she said quietly. “We can take out the snipers before moving into the camp proper.” 

“All right,” Nil replied. Then he sniffled and cleared his throat quietly. 

Aloy looked at him with concern. This had seemed like a good idea yesterday, but she wasn’t sure Nil could keep quiet enough. Before she could speak, Nil shot her a stern look. “Suntress, we’re here. The rush of their blood is within my grasp. We’re not turning back now.” Without waiting for her reply, he slunk towards the upper ridge she’d indicated. 

With growing misgivings, Aloy followed him and crouched beside him in the long grass on the upper ridge. Together they pulled their bows from their backs and notched arrows to take out the nearest sentries.

And then Nil sneezed. Loudly.

Aloy closed her eyes in resignation as a rough voice called out from the bandit camp. “Who’s there?” 

“Look, I see someone - up there! I see red hair in that grass!”

“Hit the alarm!”

Aloy gave Nil a look of burning resentment. He widened his eyes and shrugged helplessly at her, then grinned with wild abandon. “Well, Suntress, let’s get to it,” he said, then stood up in the grass and swiftly shot one of the nearest bandits in the eye. 

Aloy briskly rubbed her forehead in annoyance, then stood as well and began shooting arrow after arrow. Footsteps behind her heralded the approach of an enemy, and she spun while ducking the bandit’s bow and slammed her spear into his belly. 

It was pandemonium. Wave after disorganized wave of bandits fell upon Aloy and Nil as they fought their way down the small ridge back to the ground so they would have more room to maneuver. Nil was chaos personified, laughing wildly while coughing, and at one point Aloy saw him spit a gobbet of phlegm into a bandit’s face as a distraction before slamming his trusty knife into the bandit’s throat. 

A long time and many bruises and scrapes later, the bandit clan’s corpses lay in a broken sprawl around their feet. Aloy breathed hard and rubbed her elbow where the flat of a bandit’s spear handle had slammed into it. She shot Nil a look of annoyance. “Happy now?” she panted. 

Nil grinned at her. He looked healthier than he had in days, with a glow to his skin and a jaunty lift to his posture. “Oh yes,” he confirmed. “I feel like I’ve absorbed the essence of all this blood. It’s like their lives have flowed directly into my lungs and cleared out the stagnant phlegm. I can even smell again.” He took a deep, luxurious breath through his nose and sighed with pleasure. “Ah, that coppery scent of fear... I missed it deeply.” 

“You’ve only been sick for three days,” Aloy retorted scathingly. Then she cleared her throat and sniffled. 

Nil’s eyes flew to her face, and Aloy’s stomach jolted with dismay. “Oh no,” she groaned.

Nil grinned wolfishly. “Oh yes,” he snickered. “I hope you have some ochrebloom left. You should chew some now, you know. It’ll help to head off the cold. I hear it’s more effective as a tea, though…”

Aloy shoved him in the chest as he laughed, but he grabbed her by the waist and slung her over his shoulder in one easy movement. Aloy grunted in protest and beat at his back with her fists, but Nil blithely ignored her as he strode away from the bandit camp. “Now then, we’d better get back to our normal activities. Someone told me that the sicker you act, the sicker you feel. I can’t comment on that person’s reliability, though. What does a machine-hunter know about healing, after all?” he taunted.

“You smart-ass. You’re insufferable,” Aloy screeched, and Nil laughed evilly. “You know you love it,” he replied. 

Aloy finally laughed, then coughed. As insufferable, germy, and whiny as Nil might be, she had to admit he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading along, dear friends! Unlike my Niloy longfics, this oneshot collection won't have a daily update schedule... I'll be adding to it whenever I'm inspired.


	2. Nightmares (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aloy has a nightmare, and Nil wakes her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I wrote this oneshot because I read a bunch of fics recently that are written in the present tense, and somehow when it's done properly, I feel like the present tense can be super impactful. This is the first time I've tried it, so... I hope it is not awful? Lol.

The Embrace whips by beneath her, so quickly she can’t make out the features of the land. She’s soaring, weightless. It’s what she always dreamed of since she learned how to override Stormbirds. 

But she’s not flying. She’s falling. The ground is rushing up to meet her. She’s moments away, seconds, a heartbeat-

Aloy jolts awake for a second, but only for a second. Her eyelids are so heavy. She can’t keep them open even if she wants to.

He smiles at her with his stern blue eyes. She smiles back, but then he starts to walk away, his feathered cloak blowing in the breeze like a funeral banner. She runs after him, but he’s already so far away. She’s faster than him, she knows she is. So how did he get so far away so quickly?

“The strength to take a stand is the strength to turn your face to the Sun.”

His stern blue eyes blink at her with paternal censure. He grabs her throat. His pale dead eyes bore into the heart of her; Lancehorn antlers would be less painful. He pulls out his knife. He’s crumpled on the ground, bleeding from the belly. 

She sees the fire before she feels it. It’s everywhere, taking everything in its path. Lodges crumble to ash. Trees blow away in the wind as nothing more than black specks. Rost dissolves into nothing. 

He’s gone. Not much left to bury. What we could find, we buried on the mountain, with flowers on the grave. She can’t stop crying, and she can’t leave. She wants to get up, leave this place behind so badly. It’s the place of nightmares. But she can’t get to her feet. She’s on her knees, frozen like a calcified corpse from one of the Old Ones’ ruins.

Her chest hurts from sobbing. Why can’t she stop crying? 

She’s alone. Only the machine that birthed her is waiting on the other side.

He stares at her coldly. His eyes are as flat and blank as Watcher lenses. The cords stitched into his chin and his scalp stand out vividly, a violent and hallucinogenic shade of blue. “There’s no time for sentimentality,” he says. “What you found is too valuable. _You’re_ too valuable.” His voice is so hard and cold. What the Metal Devil is his problem? 

That’s when she realizes she’s naked. That’s why he’s so condescending and cold. She stares back at him just as coldly, but her skin is crawling with the knowledge that he sees everything. She wants to cover herself, but it’s probably better to just pretend nothing is happening. 

So she digs in the ruins for the cords he demanded. If she finds the right cords, he’ll tell her what she needs to know. But it’s hard to find the right cords when he’s staring at her so scornfully. It’s not her fault she’s naked. She ignores his glare and continues to dig through the pile of ancient debris. But all she’s finding are those stupid vessels with the crescent handle affixed at both ends. How are there so many of them? 

Vanasha smiles at her reassuringly. “Don’t worry, little huntress. I know I can count on you.” This makes her feel a little better, so she keeps digging, even though her skin is still crawling from being naked.

“I don’t like her.”

She turns around and looks into his beautiful silver eyes with annoyance. “I know you don’t, but I have to find her prayer beads and get her some rabbits. It’s my responsibility,” she tells him firmly. 

He’s angry. Why is he so angry? Her chest hurts again, but she’s helpless to do anything about this pain. He walks away, and she wants to tell him to come back, but she’s too busy digging for ancient vessels. She needs just two more to complete the set. Then Studious Palas will be able to tell her how to fix GAIA. 

She screams after him to come back, but she can’t even turn around to tell him properly, she’s so busy digging for the prayers beads. He walks away from her, indignation written in the ramrod-straight line of his spine. She’s sobbing again, sobbing into the ancient debris, making it run red with blood. 

So much blood. She didn’t realize he would bleed so much.

“Suntress, it’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse. I’ve given worse.” 

He smiles a nightmare smile, his skin melting away to reveal muscle and blackened bone. But still he smiles and smiles, a ghoulish, feral grin that does nothing to reassure her. 

Why did she let him walk away? She should have gone with him. Then he wouldn’t have died on his way to Free Heap. 

Petra’s eyes are dripping with sympathy. But Petra won’t let her see the body. She screams at Petra. She won’t believe it unless she sees him with her own two eyes. But everyone at Free Heap has the same look on their faces. Their faces read easily, like a scroll of children’s glyphs: _Poor Nora girl. Falling in love with the Carja killer. We all knew it would end this way._

Why didn’t anyone tell her? If they all knew it, why didn’t they _say_ something? Then she could have saved him. 

She’s sobbing again. The ache in her chest is back again, shattering her ribs. She can’t catch her breath, she’s crying so hard. Why won’t they let her see him? 

She’s alone. Only GAIA is waiting for her on the other side. But GAIA is damaged beyond repair. 

She promised she’d follow him anywhere because he taught her how to track, but he died. And now she’s alone. 

He promised he’d follow her anywhere, and she promised they’d never be separated, but she let him go, and he died. And now she’s alone. 

She’s alone. 

“Suntress.”

She’s alone. 

“ _Aloy._ Wake up.”

Aloy tears her eyes open and gasps. That’s when she realizes her face is crumpled into a grimace of grief. Nil’s hands are on her face, wiping away the tears she didn’t know she was crying. 

She scrabbles desperately at his hands, squeezes his arms to reassure herself that he’s real. His skin is warm under her palms. His scent of orange-oil and sweat is proof that he’s here, he’s alive. It was just a dream. _Just a dream._

“Nil,” she gasps, her chest tight with residual fear. She rolls towards him and wraps her left arm around him tightly. She buries her face in his chest, pressing her cheek to his skin to hear the slow, reassuring thudding of his heart. 

He’s not dead. It was just a dream. 

“I had a nightmare,” she whispers against his skin. 

Nil wraps an arm around her and rolls onto his back, taking her with him so that she’s sprawled across his naked chest. “I could tell,” he says. 

She smiles at the deadpan humour in his deep voice. She shuts her eyes, sliding her arms around him and beneath his back to squeeze him tightly. “I dreamed that you died,” she whispers. Another jolt of fear strikes her heart; saying the words out loud makes the amorphous images feel too real. 

He snorts with amusement and strokes her hair. “I’m not going to die. I’m the one who trails death in my wake. It’s a gift.” 

Aloy smiles again, but a trail of chillwater runs down her back, spreading goosebumps across her skin. _No one ever thinks they’re going to die. It just happens,_ she thinks, remembering the shock of Rost’s passing. One moment he was there, the next he was… gone.

A lump of distress rises in her throat. She swallows and presses her cheek hard against Nil’s sternum. He runs his hands soothingly over her naked back, then pulls the blankets over them to warm her. But blankets can only do so much to chase away this chill.

“Suntress, be calm,” he croons. “Let these worries go. There’s no point clutching them close. Release the artery, let your fears bleed away. You’ll feel better, I promise.” 

Finally she lets out a tiny laugh, a tiny release of fear puffing from her lips like firesmoke. “You make it sound so easy,” she retorts. 

“It _is_ easy.” His deep, musical voice is supremely confident. “Just think about something relaxing. Like the deep inhale you take right before shooting a perfectly aimed arrow. Or the fine edge of a freshly sharpened knife, just waiting to sink into an enemy’s gut.” 

“That’s not relaxing for everybody, Nil,” she mumbles, but his voice alone is lulling her back into the warm cocoon of slumber. His palms slide soothingly across her back, smoothing away the tightness in her muscles. She blinks twice, slowly. On the third blink her eyes stay closed, weighed down again by her heavy eyelids.

“Think of the waterfall then.” Nil’s voice feels far away, but she’s not afraid anymore. The rushing water is always refreshing on a hot day. Unfortunately it washes away the bloody signs of our victory, but you can’t have everything. 

Think about the cave. It’s nice and quiet there. The best part is that nobody else knows it’s there, nobody but us. We don’t have to talk to anyone else. Well, that’s _my_ favourite part.

The Sundom is flying past beneath her. She whips past the Spire and laughs down at the benign forms of the Glinthawks roosting there. She’s soaring, weightless. It’s what she always dreamed of since she learned how to override Stormbirds.

But this time she’s not falling. She’s flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II will be Nil's nightmare...


	3. Nightmares (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nil has a nightmare, but he doesn't want to talk about it... and he finds comfort in another way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hurt/comfort smut. NSFW. <3

_The Sun will rise, the Sun will fall_  
_Shadows stretch across the wall_  
_But don’t be scared, my little one_  
_The morning comes and so the Sun._

The woman’s sing-song voice is soothing. He blinks up at her pale grey eyes, like looking into a mirror. Blink. Grey. Blink again. Green-gold. He smiles. Blink. Grey again. 

He frowns. He prefers the green-gold. Blink. Gone.

Where did she go? 

He looks around and recoils in disgust. His own disgust reflects the faces around him. They float past him, inconsequential but menacing, like ghosts draped in gaudy finery with metal tiaras and gilded stitching. 

He hates them. He hates them all. He hates this place.

Roughly he shoves his way through the crowd. Their vitriolic hissing penetrates his ears, like the vengeful buzzing of a battered bees’ nest. He waves them off, strides past them as quickly as he can, but they’re everywhere. He can see the arched doorway leading out of the Temple of the Sun and back towards his private quarters. 

He starts to run, heedless of the ghosts clamouring around him. They try to fill his ears with poison, but he’s too swift. 

_Kadar._

He sneers. A former name from a former life. He keeps running. Down a corridor. Through a crumbling passageway. Through a dank, calcified corridor with a metal door at the end, punctuated by a ring of blue and pink light. 

A flash of hope. Maybe she’ll be on the other side of the metal door. He twists his hand, and the ring of light turns green. He rushes through the door. 

He stops short with disappointment. Two pairs of brown eyes gaze at him. The princes are smiling, but he sees through their smiles. He sees their fear. Disdain washes over him. 

“Kadar, let’s go to the Hunter’s Lodge.” 

He doesn’t bother to answer them. He turns on his heel to keep moving. If he’s fast enough, he might make it back to Sunstone Rock in time for the evening meal. 

“Look around, Kadar. You’re already here,” Janeva reminds him.

Nil recoils in disgust again. He knew the Rock wasn’t his real punishment. He knew he’d been let off too easy. _This_ is the real punishment.

The courtesans stare at him, their veils and silks revealing more than they cover, and their ripe curves are more repulsive than the courtiers’ hate. He takes a step back, but the Sun Ring is sealed. He has to go through this if he wants to get back to Sunstone Rock. 

He looks up at the balustrade, and another jolt of hope rockets through him. _There._ A flash of red, like a splash of blood. So he steps into the Sun Ring, into the sea of silks and veils. 

Their sinuous hands reach for him, and their palms are like needles. He shoves them away, reaches for his knife, but his weapons hold no power here. They pluck at his clothes, stroke his chest and arms. His skin crawls as though there are maggots beneath his flesh. He clenches his jaw and doggedly pushes through them towards the metal door, sealed with its circle of blue and pink light. 

_Kadar._

He sneers. A former name from a former life. He rips off his skin strip by strip so they’ll stop touching him. Finally he reaches the door, and the blood sheeting from his naked flesh is a comfort. He twists his hand and the light turns green. 

_There._ A flash of flame-red, just ahead of him. She’s walking at a leisurely pace. A bolt of longing replaces the disgust in his belly. He starts to jog down the corridor to catch up with her. But the ghosts are getting in his way. The burning hate in their eyes enrages him. 

_Kadar. Kadar._

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses. She’s turning the corner. He’s not fast enough. The ghosts are in his way. He turns the corner too, but she’s already disappearing through another metal door. 

He calls her name, but his voice doesn’t leave his throat. He sprints through the jungle until he’s in the palace, steps away from the Sun-King’s pagoda. 

The gaudily dressed ghosts are everywhere, their eyes glowing with malevolence, but he ignores them. Where is she?

“Kadar.” 

She’s right behind him. She’s more beautiful than ever, but her hazel eyes are glowing with malevolence. 

He recoils, with confusion this time. Why is she calling him that? “Don’t call me ‘Kadar’,” he says. 

“Don’t call me ‘Suntress’,” she replies. 

Her words hit him with the force of a spear to his stomach. He grabs for her, but she’s gone. 

_The Sun will rise, the Sun will fall_  
_Shadows stretch across the wall_

Nil ignores the sing-song voice of the woman with the pale grey eyes. He looks around for her, but he’s alone in the Orbital Launch Base. She’s left him here to rot. 

“The Shadow Carja Prince, hiding like a coward in the cursed bowels of the earth.” 

He snarls with sudden rage as he faces that supercilious smirk, those dead eyes. He reaches for his bow, but it’s gone. His knife is gone. He’s unarmed. 

_Impossible._ Nil is never unarmed. Fists and teeth it is, then. He takes one step towards Helis, but her voice stops him cold. 

“Don’t call me ‘Suntress’”. 

She’s clasped tight in Helis’s arms, but her hateful glare is directed at Nil. Maggots are crawling under his skin again. His heartbeat is sharp and painful, but still he takes a step towards them, draws back his fist to strike Helis’s smug, supercilious face-

“Don’t touch me.” 

The words are in Helis’s voice, but they come from her. Nil stops cold. Her beautiful face is crumpled with disgust and condescension. 

He’s paralyzed by confusion. He stares at her. She’s a stranger to him. 

_Don’t be scared, my little one_  
_The morning comes and so the Sun_

The singing should comfort him, but it doesn’t. Helis takes a step toward him, but Nil can’t react. He’s paralyzed by anguish. 

He stares at her pleadingly, but she curls her lip. Her eyes are flat and cold like the glassy ponds near the Grave-Hoard. Helis steps closer still, but Nil can’t move. He’s paralyzed by grief. 

Helis draws back the glowing blue lance in his hand. “Coward,” he whispers, his lips peeling back in a ghoulish grin. 

Nil is paralyzed. She stares at him with revulsion and hate. The lance swings towards his chest-

“Fuck!” Nil sits bolt upright and runs his hands through his hair. 

“Nil?” Suntress shifts under the blanket, then rolls towards him and props herself up on one elbow. “What’s wrong?”

Her voice is fuzzy with sleep. His heart is racing still. He turns to her and cups her cheek so he can look at her face in the dim light of the moon. 

She blinks drowsily at him, and some of the tension flees Nil’s shoulders at the familiar warmth and curiosity in her green-and-gold gaze. She frowns slightly and reaches up to place her hand over his. “What’s wrong?” she repeats. “You’re shaking.”

Nil removes his hand from her cheek with a pang of embarrassment. What is he, a child to be frightened by dreams? “Nothing,” he says. He runs his hand through the flames of her hair, gently teasing through the tangles with his fingers. 

She tilts her head; already she looks fully alert and awake. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“No,” Nil scoffs, feeling even more embarrassed. Then he rubs a hand over his hair. “Maybe.” 

She sits up slowly and wraps her arms around him, her cheek pressed to his back. Nil relaxes at the heat of her bare skin against his. “Do you want to talk about it?” she murmurs. Her voice is a whisper against his shoulder blade.

Nil swallows. The dream is fading already, leaving only faint impressions and scattered images, but the fear remains. A thread of distress pulls at his belly as he remembers her dream-spectre’s disgust and scorn. 

He scowls, shunts the fear aside. Nil isn’t the one to feel fear; he’s the one who brings it. Besides, for some reason, he doesn’t want to tell her about this. It would feel like picking at a wound, somehow. “No. It was just a dream,” he says quietly. 

He feels her nod of acknowledgement against his back. They sit in comfortable silence for a moment. Then he feels her voice against his skin again. “It's okay,” she whispers. 

She's right, of course. Everything’s fine. But the memory of her face contorted with revulsion is haunting him, writhing in his belly like snakes, making him feel edgy. 

He turns towards her, gently disentangling himself from her embrace, and cups her face in his hands. He stares into her hazel eyes searchingly. 

Suntress stares back. Her gaze is both serious and curious, but most importantly, warm with affection. The tension in his chest loosens a bit more, but he craves her reassurance. “Kiss me,” he says.

She doesn't hesitate. She lifts her chin and leans toward him, and Nil captures her lips in a kiss. Immediately she presses herself close to him, sliding one hand around his waist, and relief sharpens the sudden surge of desire that jolts through his chest. 

Eagerly he wraps one arm around her waist and slides her beneath his body. His relief is heightened when she grips his shoulders and slides her fingers into his hair. He kisses her, tangles his tongue with hers, savours the hitch in her breathing as he slips his right hand slowly over her collarbone to palm her breast. 

Her eyes are closed, her face dreamy with pleasure as this thumb teases her nipple. His eyes are wide open, drinking in the half-smile on her fine lips. He slides his fingers lower. He registers the tensing muscles of her belly, watches with satisfaction as her lips part with a tiny gasp of anticipation. Her desire soothes him.

His fingers drift over her red-and-gold curls to stroke her heat, and the pliant arching of her back is more comforting than a fire on a frigid night. He slides his fingers along the length of her labia and over the tempting bud of her clit. He watches her face carefully, on edge for any signs of rejection, but in the flush of her lips and the tilt of her eyebrows, all he sees is desire. Her bliss calms him.

His fingers move smoothly at the apex of her thighs. Her pleasure is second nature to him now. He craves the taste of her sweetness on his tongue, but he can’t look away from her face. 

She grabs his left wrist suddenly, her nails sinking into his flesh, and he smiles. He brushes his fingers lightly over her clit. She cries out sharply, her eyes squeezed shut tight. Her rapture is plain in the strain of her voice, and it pacifies him.

He slides his palm along the length of her thigh as he settles his weight between her legs. She stretches her arms luxuriously over her head and bites her lip coyly. Everything about her body is an invitation, but suddenly his trepidation returns. That fucking dream is fucking with his head. 

He hesitates, and she bucks impatiently beneath him, a tiny frown creasing her eyebrows. She thinks he’s teasing her. Usually he is, but not tonight. 

She opens her eyes to look at him, and her green-and-gold gaze is burning with lust and impatience. “Nil, come on. I want you,” she urges, her voice intense with desire. She wraps one leg over his hip and reaches between their bodies to stroke her fingers over the head of his cock. 

_I want you._ A fresh wave of relief and lust washes over him. Her fingers pull a jolt of pleasure from him, and he slides into her in one hard thrust. 

She throws her head back, and her sharp cry of ecstasy pours into his belly like an antidote. He drives into her in a smooth, hard rhythm. His breaths are short and sharp, pulled from his throat by her tight, sleek heat. 

Her eyes are closed, her head turned to the side. She meets him thrust for thrust with the rising of her hips. The tendon in her neck is straining with her pleasure. But suddenly it’s not enough. He needs more. 

“Suntress. Look at me,” he breathes, and finally she opens her eyes. Her green-and-gold gaze is blazing with desperate lust. She’s panting for breath, but her eyes search his face, and suddenly she reaches up and strokes his jaw gently. 

He doesn’t know what she sees in his face, but her smile is understanding. “You’re okay,” she whispers. Her thumb traces over his cheek. “Everything’s okay.” 

Her eyes are still hot with lust, but her expression is open, guileless, _accepting_. And finally, the last of the tension leaves Nil’s body. 

Suntress tightens her fingers around the back of his neck and lifts her hips, and he gasps as she takes his length deep inside of her. “Come here,” she breathes.

He needs no second bidding. He takes her face in his hands and kisses her with all the passion he can muster. He drives into her fast and hard, encouraged by the ferocity of her tongue in his mouth. 

Her nails drag across his skin, like a sharp blooming of bliss across his shoulders. Her lips press against his cheek. “Yes,” she cries: once, twice, a third time. His confidence is restored with every sound of affirmation she makes. He wants more.

He grinds against her, a circular rhythm that he knows will drive her into the heights of pleasure. She gasps sharply. Her nails dig into his arms. He continues his slow, circular grinding and bites her neck. 

“Nil!” She screams his name, his _real_ name, and nothing could sound sweeter. She arches her back and thrusts convulsively against him. Her inner walls are contracting, pressing her wet heat more tightly around his length, and with a shudder of exquisite pleasure, he resumes his fast, hard rhythm. 

She cries out a second time, and her voice brings him to completion. He buries his face in her neck and gasps his release into her fragrant hair. 

Her arms wrap languorously around his shoulders and he relaxes into her embrace, his face tucked against the side of her neck. Her chest rises and falls with her slow, easy breaths. He enjoys the sticky heat of her skin pressed against his. 

“You’re squishing me,” she murmurs. He can hear the smile in her voice. He smirks, then lifts his body and starts to roll away.

“No, stay,” she says. Her arms tighten around his neck, and a surge of white-hot tenderness takes his breath away for a moment. He inhales quietly. “Should I stay, or should I let you breathe?” he asks. 

She laughs at his deadpan tone. “Let’s trade places,” she suggests.

Nil wraps an arm around her waist and rolls onto his back, bringing her with him. She sighs happily and nuzzles her face against his chest. “Goodnight,” she whispers. 

Nil huffs with fond amusement and runs his fingers through the blood-red tresses of her hair. He’s not sure he’ll be able to fall asleep again, but he takes comfort from the slow, relaxed rhythm of her breathing. 

He continues to stroke her hair for a long time. Slowly his eyes drift shut, and his fingers fall still in her hair. 

“Sweet dreams,” she mumbles suddenly. Nil didn’t know she was still awake. He doesn’t reply, but he smiles drowsily. 

Maybe this time, he will.


	4. Hunter Against Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nil invites Aloy to fight him on the mesa overlooking the Spearshafts, and this time, Aloy agrees. NSFW smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this oneshot was a challenge to myself to try and write a combat/fight scene that's halfway interesting. You guys can be the judge of whether I was successful. *clueless shrug*
> 
> The smut was NOT intended to take over as much as it did but guys I can't control Nil okay I don't know what to tell you *clueless shrug x 1000*

“... and you almost never carried fire arrows before I met you. All it would have taken is one fire arrow to those fancy silk pants, distract you, precision arrow to the throat, _boom_. Dead.”

Nil smirked as he and Aloy tromped through the jungle. “Fancy silk pants? I’m not the only one who wears silk, you know.” He tugged at the back of her cropped silk blouse teasingly. 

Aloy batted his hand away. “Don’t change the subject. There’s no way you would have won that fight. You might have gotten in a strike or two, maybe even an arrow. _Maybe_. But I definitely would have killed you.”

Aloy and Nil had resurrected a (mostly playful) debate that they sometimes engaged in when they were bored: whether she or Nil would have won if she had agreed to fight him to the death. 

“You’re wrong. I would have bested you,” Nil said simply. 

Aloy raised her eyebrows with utter skepticism and planted her hands on her hips. “Explain how. You mostly use just two types of arrows, occasionally tearblasts when we go machine-hunting. There’s no versatility there. And you’re way too reliant on close-quarters combat. _Especially_ when you’re excited.” Aloy knew that Nil found her violence to be an aphrodisiac; she dropped her gaze pointedly to his groin, which was visibly starting to tent at their discussion. 

She lifted her eyes back to his face and gave him a knowing, smug smirk. “I only engage in close-quarters combat when it’s necessary. I would have just dodged out of your reach and shot you down.” 

Nil shook his head in denial, totally unashamed by his hard-on. “ _You’re_ too reliant on your bow. You’re afraid to get your hands dirty. Always trying to avoid those joyful splashes of blood that burst so enthusiastically from your enemies’ wounds.” He grinned slowly at her.

Aloy knew he was just trying to get a rise from her. She _knew_ , but she couldn’t help reacting. “I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty!” she retorted. “I just don’t actively _try_ to smear my hands with blood. Excuse me for not being a crazy Carja killer.” She raised her chin haughtily as she stepped over a toppled tree trunk. 

“Nope. Not an excuse,” Nil replied lazily. “I’d have ended you, Suntress. I’m just as fast as you. You couldn’t dodge me forever.” He grabbed suddenly for her arm.

Aloy snatched her arm out of his reach and skipped nimbly around a large fern, placing the plant between herself and Nil. She snickered. “Just as fast, huh? Yeah, right. You’re like a Trampler compared to me.” 

Nil eyed her, his silver eyes burning with humour and desire. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking for all the world like a Sawtooth waiting to pounce. Then he raised one eyebrow. “I dare you to put this little argument to the test.” 

Aloy narrowed her eyes suspiciously, and Nil continued. “A sparring match. You and me. You can use your spear. I’ll use my knife. We’ll find out once and for all who would win.”

Aloy raised her chin and folded her arms. “Just sparring. No contact?”

“Of course,” Nil said immediately. He frowned at her. “What kind of beast do you take me for? I’d never actually injure you.” 

Aloy couldn’t help but laugh at the irony, given the topic of their discussion. Nil smiled slowly and stepped around the fern to pull her close. “I was misguided back then,” he murmured. “I’d rather slit my own throat then consider spilling a drop of your fiery blood.” 

Aloy rolled her eyes, but she affectionately slid her palms over his bare chest all the same. “Okay, okay. No need to get all self-sacrificial.”

Nil tilted his head and gave her a mocking half-smile. “So. What do you say? Will you accept my dare?” 

She slid her arms around his waist and pursed her lips. Nil knew she wasn’t one to turn down a challenge. Finally she threw him a bold look. “Fine. I accept. Then we can shut this debate down once and for all.” 

“Excellent,” Nil growled, and Aloy yelped in surprise as he pulled her firmly against his hard groin with a hand on her butt. 

She shoved at his chest with a grin. “ _Nil!_ You’re so disgusting,” she laughed. He smirked and released her, and they continued their walk through the jungle. 

“So where is this stupid sparring match going to take place?” Aloy asked casually. Despite herself, her competitive juices were flowing already, and she was looking forward to proving to her Carja lover that she was the superior fighter. 

Nil smirked down at her, then jerked his head slightly to the east. “Isn’t it obvious?”

******************

“You’re sick. You know that?” 

Nil quirked one eyebrow at her. “You wound me, Suntress. What better place than this? There’s a sense of-” 

“Drama, I know.” Aloy shook her head at him in mock exasperation, but she couldn’t help but smile. They were standing on the lonely mesa overlooking the Spearshafts where Nil had invited her to fight him to the death. “This is hardly a dramatic situation though. It’s just a sparring match.”

“A sparring match where we find out, once and for all, who’s the better fighter,” Nil replied complacently. “I’d say this is an appropriately dramatic setting for my victory.” He quirked an eyebrow at her and grinned. 

Aloy scoffed. How was it possible for one man to be so insufferable and yet so charming at the same time? “You’re unbelievable. And far too cocky. All right, Carja, get ready to eat your words.” She twirled her ridgewood spear, then gripped it lightly in both hands and crouched slightly as she faced him. She had managed to convince Nil to use practice weapons made of ridgewood instead of their real weapons for this match, just in case. 

He smiled slowly at her and sank into a prepared stance, his ridgewood knife held in a reverse grip in his right hand. “All right, Suntress. Let’s dance.” 

She smiled at him, but didn’t move a muscle. Nil also stood as still as a statue and stared at her, and after a long, tense moment, a slow smile lit his face. 

Aloy wanted to laugh as well, but she forced her face to remain neutral. Already they were at an impasse; she and Nil were both too experienced as fighters to want to make the first move. 

Suddenly Nil stepped forward: a big step, placing him close enough to reach her. His position to the right of her spearhead made it awkward for her to try and strike him. Swiftly Aloy stepped back to gain some space, then checked his upraised knife arm with a hit to his elbow before darting in to jab at his belly. 

With equal speed, Nil dodged back and to Aloy’s left, then quickly he stepped towards her, his knife held high as though to target her neck or face. 

Aloy stepped back again, but didn’t raise her spear; she suspected that he was baiting her, purposely trying to make her lift her arms. When Nil grinned suddenly, Aloy knew that her hunch was correct. And then Nil suddenly froze.

Aloy hesitated, thrown off by his sudden stillness. Then his hand moved slightly towards her face. Without quite meaning to, Aloy lifted her spear to block, then just barely lowered it in time to block Nil’s right arm as he changed direction and swiped low in a cut towards her belly. She knocked his arm aside with her spear, opening his chest to a vulnerable position, then lunged forward swiftly to punish him for leaving himself open to attack. 

With any other opponent, the match would have been over; Aloy would have struck hard and true in the chest. But Nil was no average opponent. With uncanny speed he dodged away from her lunge, then grabbed the head of her spear with his left hand and tugged _hard_ , pulling her towards him as his knife hand lunged down towards her neck. 

Aloy had seen many a novice fall to this move by trying to tug their spears away, but Aloy was no novice. Instead of resisting, she moved into the momentum of Nil’s tug: she released the spear and fell into a defensive somersault to avoid his knife swipe. As soon as she returned to a crouching position to beside Nil’s left leg, she elbowed him _hard_ in the back of his left knee, which was supporting his weight. 

Nil grunted with surprise. He collapsed onto his left knee and released her spear. Immediately Aloy hauled the spear from his grip and angled it down to where his neck would be… again, if he was any other opponent. But Nil was too fast. He managed just barely - but clumsily - to deflect her spear with his left forearm.

“Hit,” Aloy said briskly as her ridgewood spearhead contacted his forearm. She quirked one eyebrow with satisfaction.

Nil grinned, his eyes blazing with approval and unabashed lust. “Non-lethal, Suntress. Keep going,” he purred. 

And so the match continued. Aloy knew that with Nil’s speed and strength, she couldn’t let him grab hold of her spear again; she wouldn’t be able to get away with the roll-and-trip approach a second time. She settled for tiring him out and trying to bait him close, feigning and striking him with infuriating little smacks with the side and butt of her spear. In return, Nil got her with a couple of non-lethal slices to her thighs and her leading arm. 

Aloy had seen Nil in action countless times during their time together, but this was the first time his combat skill had been directed at her. And to her surprise, it was… kind of exciting. Aloy’s blood was pumping with a thrill that she usually only felt during a good machine hunt. She and Nil were almost perfectly matched in skill and speed, but their differing preferences for weapons made the fight an interesting challenge. 

But it wasn’t just the thrill of the hunt she was feeling. Even as Aloy tracked Nil’s predatory movements with her hunter’s eyes, a shard of her attention was irresistibly captured by the beads of sweat sliding down his sternum, the shape of the veins popping on the back of his right hand as he gripped his ridgewood knife. A familiar simmering heat was warming her blood, making her skin ache for his hands even as she dodged away from his every slice and jab. 

At one point while facing her, Nil hooked his left foot around the back of Aloy’s right ankle, stopping her from dodging away quickly enough. His ridgewood knife swung in, bare inches from her neck. Hastily she leaned away from his swipe, then finally lifted her foot and stumbled back. Then she did the opposite of what she knew Nil would expect: she came at him with an aggressive head-on attack. She flipped her grip on her spear so it was held at chest level like a bar and _plowed_ into him using the body of the spear to shove him back. Nil’s eyes widened in shock as he stumbled back, then he grunted as Aloy struck him in the abdomen with the butt of her spear. He doubled over slightly from the impact.

 _Almost there, almost there,_ Aloy thought feverishly. She had a mere second before he recovered. Quickly she stepped even closer to him, and with a swift leg sweep, she kicked Nil’s feet out from under him. 

He hit the ground on his back with a groan of pain, and his ridgewood knife flew from his grip. When he opened his eyes, it was to find Aloy standing over him with her spearpoint at the tender underside of his chin. 

Aloy grinned at him as she panted for breath. Exhilaration and victory were pounding through her veins. “You’re done,” she announced cheerfully. 

But before the words had fully left her mouth, Nil grabbed her ridgewood spearhead with both hands and wrenched it hard, causing Aloy to stumble forward and trip over his supine body. She could only catch her fall by releasing her spear. Her hands had barely hit the ground when she felt Nil’s hand shoving her hip. She rolled onto her butt from the force of his shove, then tried to kick at him as he rose to his knees above her. He laughed darkly as he captured her ankle and tugged her towards him, forcing her into a supine position. 

Suddenly he was kneeling between her legs, and her hands were pinned to the ground beneath his palms. The simmering of lust in her belly erupted with a roar as she glanced down and realized that he was rock-hard. 

“You cheater,” Aloy gritted. “I won fair and square.” 

Nil smiled his hot, feral grin and slowly pressed his groin firmly against her, and Aloy gasped. “I know you did. I want to congratulate you face-to-face,” he growled.

“Try getting me a trophy instead,” Aloy retorted, even as she undulated her hips instinctively against his. Then, without warning, she braced her right foot on the ground and pushed herself upward to lever some space between herself and Nil. Swiftly she tucked her left knee up between their bodies, then braced her left foot against his hip and shoved herself away from him. 

Nil’s eyes widened with surprise as Aloy slid out from beneath him. Then his face transformed into a grin as she crouched slightly in a prepared stance, then beckoned for him to approach with a cheeky come-hither gesture.

“Come on, Carja. You want to congratulate me? You’ll have to catch me first,” she taunted. 

Nil laughed out loud as he rose to his feet. “Suntress, you’re going to be the death of me. I have no blood left for thinking. It’s all rushing elsewhere.” Blatantly he reached down and tugged at the heavy bulge between his legs. 

Aloy’s eyes snagged on the sight of his big hand grasping at his cock… and Nil took advantage of her distraction to lunge forward and grab the front of her belt pouch. Aloy gasped at the feel of his fingers grazing her belly, then swiftly she knocked his hand away with her forearm. “You _cheat,_ ” she exclaimed as she hopped away from him. “You’re playing dirty!” 

Nil quizzically cocked his head to the side. The expression on his face was totally benign, aside from the wicked heat blazing in his pale grey eyes. “Is there any other way to play?” he asked.

Aloy’s face broke into a grin. “Oh ho. Fine, if that’s what you want.” She skipped back until there was a good few meters between them, then rolled her shoulders as though she was limbering up. Then she reached up and ran a hand through her hair… and she tilted her head to the side and arched her back as she did so.

Exactly as predicted, Nil’s eyes dropped to her midriff, and his face went slack with desire. Aloy took advantage of his distraction to dodge forward and gently punch him in the stomach. 

Nil grunted with surprise rather than pain, then growled playfully and lunged for her, but Aloy had already skipped away with a snicker. Then she squawked with surprise as Nil rushed forward and hooked his fingers into the back of her waistband, then dragged her into his arms.

He lifted her off her feet, his arms around her waist like steel bands, and Aloy dissolved into laughter and kicked her feet to try and throw him off balance. “You little hellbeast,” Nil growled in her ear, and Aloy squealed as he nipped her neck with his teeth. “Take off your sandals.” 

“ _You_ take them off, if you can,” she teased. She gripped his forearm in both hands and then roughly twisted her hands in opposite directions. 

Nil hissed in a sharp breath of pain and loosened his grip slightly, and Aloy wriggled furiously to try and free herself. Then all of a sudden, Nil let her go. 

Aloy dropped to her feet and stumbled slightly at his sudden release, but Nil immediately grabbed her and pulled her back against his chest again, this time with his left arm banded around her shoulders. Aloy twisted her shoulders to get free, then suddenly she froze, her lips parting involuntarily on a sharp intake of breath; Nil had swiftly slid his right palm over her ribs and belly, then into her leggings. 

“Take off your sandals. Now,” he whispered. Somehow, he managed to convey a cartload of authority despite the low volume of his voice, and a fresh lance of red-hot lust shot through Aloy’s body. She could feel her desire pooling between her legs. 

Half-heartedly she twisted her shoulders again, and Nil retaliated by sliding his hand out of her leggings. “No,” Aloy gasped, and bucked her hips pleadingly for him to put his hand back. 

Nil abruptly bit her neck again, harder this time, and Aloy moaned and bucked her hips again. “Do as I tell you. Take off your sandals,” he repeated. 

His right palm was resting firmly but stubbornly over her belly, the heat of his palm sinking into her skin. With a little growl of frustration, Aloy awkwardly bent her knees to bring her calves within reach, and roughly she shoved at the straps of her sandals until her footwear came off. 

“There. Now touch me,” she ordered, and she arched her back demandingly. 

To her surprise, Nil actually complied: his right hand slid into her leggings again, and Aloy’s eyelids drifted shut in ecstasy as he ran his fingers in a sweet, smooth line from her clit down along the length of her cleft and back. 

Aloy gripped his left forearm for support as she blissfully leaned her head back against his chest. Then his deep, mellifluous voice was in her ear, pushing her pleasure even higher. “The wild Nora huntress, tamed by the Carja killer’s touch. That’s a love story if ever I’ve heard one,” he purred. 

Aloy smiled through her lust. “Oh please. You’ve never listened to any love stories before,” she retorted. Then she moaned and clenched her nails in Nil’s forearm as his finger stroked the bud of her pleasure with a perfect firm pressure.

“Just because I don’t like them doesn’t mean I didn’t hear them, Suntress,” he whispered. “Besides, our story is the only one that matters.” 

A rush of affection for Nil suddenly washed over her, melding with her pleasure to warm her straight through to her bones. How did he always manage to find the sweetest words, even in these moments of undiluted lust? She tilted her neck back in a wordless request, and Nil met her lips with a surprisingly tender kiss. 

Aloy savoured the heat of his mouth and the slide of his tongue against hers, but soon she was panting against his lips as his fingers continued their skillful rhythm between her legs.

Just as Aloy’s breaths were coming short and sharp with her impending climax, Nil spoke again. “Do you think I told you to take off your sandals for nothing?”

 _Oh no,_ Aloy thought with sudden dread. She knew that mocking tone too well. To her utter dismay, Nil pulled his hand from her leggings and backed away from her with an evil grin. “Now you’ll have to catch _me_ if you want to finish,” he said matter-of-factly. 

Aloy ran a shaking hand through her hair and pulled on a braid in vexation. “You’re such a bastard,” she complained. 

Nil grinned even more widely. “You’re the one who wiggled out from my grasp like a worm. You want this, I know you do. Your frustration sharpens the pleasure, when eventually it comes.” 

“Sharpens mine, or sharpens yours?” Aloy demanded brusquely. Her hands were busily working at the laces of her leggings.

“Take your pick,” Nil replied distractedly. His eyes were fixed on her hands. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Aloy snapped. Briskly she shoved her leggings off; she was far too aroused to bother removing her belt pouch or tassets. 

Nil’s eyes were fixed on the apex of her thighs, his pupils blown wide with lust. Aloy smirked vindictively; he was so _predictable_ , so easily distracted by glimpses of her body. She turned her back to him and strolled over to a large boulder, then sat facing him with her knees crossed demurely. She raised her chin and gave Nil a challenging look. “I’m going to sit here until _you_ decide to finish what you started,” she declared. 

Nil stared at her, and Aloy’s breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his silver stare. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face. Aloy swallowed hard to try and master her own desperate desire; the posture of his entire body screamed aggressive, dominant sex, from the hulking lilt of his shoulders to his fisted hands. He tilted his head slowly to the side. “And if I decide not to?”

Aloy leaned back on one hand and slowly uncrossed her knees before answering. “Somehow I don’t think that’s likely.”

Nil’s eager eyes were on her thighs again, his gaze so intense she could practically feel it on her skin. Very slowly she parted her knees, allowing Nil a brief glimpse between her legs before leaning forward and blocking his view by placing her palms on the boulder between her parted thighs. 

Nil hissed with frustration. “You tease.”

Now Aloy was the one to grin evilly at him. “You started it.” 

Nil shook his head in disbelief. Then in the blink of an eye he was standing between her legs, one hand on her throat and tilting her head back while his other hand slid along the inside of her thigh. “You’re so fucking stubborn,” he hissed against her cheekbone. 

“You know you love it,” Aloy breathed. Then she cried out as Nil slid one finger inside of her.

He chuckled against her ear and swirled his fingers, and Aloy cried out again and thrust her hips convulsively against his hand. A moment later, he dropped to his knees and shoved her tassets aside, and any further witticisms fled Aloy’s mind as his hot tongue laved her wetness. 

_Yes._ This was the only word that came to mind now as Nil gently kissed her slick feminine folds, finishing each kiss with a tiny lap of his tongue. Aloy arched her back fitfully as he kissed the bud of her pleasure, then swirled his tongue over her bud with a slow, circular rhythm. Under the careful caresses of Nil’s tongue, her thwarted climax from earlier surged to the fore again with alarming speed, and suddenly she threw her head back and screamed her pleasure into the back of her hand to try and muffle the noise. 

Her calves were still spasming with the aftershocks of her orgasm when Nil stood and roughly pulled her to her feet, then spun her so she was facing the boulder. Eagerly Aloy braced her palms on the boulder and bent over pliantly as Nil slowly but firmly pushed her down. She twisted her head to throw him an impatient glance over her shoulder. “Come on,” she urged as Nil tugged at his belt buckle and sash. 

He gave a short bark of mirth, and Aloy’s skin rippled with fresh anticipation at the rough, dark edge of lust in his laugh. “For such a teasing huntress, you’re certainly eager now,” Nil gritted. 

“I was always eager. I just wanted to win,” Aloy panted in reply. 

Nil laughed again, and suddenly Aloy was laughing as well, her mirth born of a combination of giddy, hysterical lust and the sheer ridiculousness of their competition.

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” Nil said. Then Aloy cried out in bliss as he slammed his hard length into her straight to the hilt. 

With one hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip, Nil established a hard, driving rhythm, and Aloy had to cover her mouth with her fist to muffle the sound of her cries as his cock pounded into her with the most exquisite friction. She barely had to move her hips; his rhythm was so perfect that all she had to do was blissfully take what he was giving her. 

Nil then slid his hand from her shoulder to wrap his fist in her hair, and Aloy obediently straightened up as he slowly tugged on her hair. The change in posture altered the angle of Nil’s cock, pushing his hardness against that bundle of nerves inside of her, and suddenly Aloy shuddered as a fresh wave of rapture began to build in her core. Without stopping in his driving rhythm, Nil braced his other hand on her belly, and Aloy struggled to catch her breath as the pleasure roiled furiously in her abdomen. 

Her orgasm erupted with all the force of a Stormbird’s lightning gun. Aloy bit the back of her fist ruthlessly as she screamed her pleasure again, and Nil’s desperate breaths were hot against her back as he thrust into her _hard_ in the throes of his own climax. 

Sated, they gasped for breath. Nil pressed his forehead against her back, then trailed a lazy line of kisses along the exposed skin below her cropped blouse. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here before someone gets curious and decides to check out the view,” Aloy finally panted. 

Nil pulled away and rearranged his trousers with a smirk while Aloy pulled her leggings and sandals back on, and together they strolled towards the rappel point. 

Aloy was feeling quite smug, both from her victory and from the sex, and she couldn’t help but skip a little as they approached the edge of the mesa. “So. You admit that I win, then?”

Nil smirked down at her. “Best two out of three?”

Aloy stopped short and scoffed in disbelief. “No way! You’re just a sore loser. You can’t stand the thought that you lost.”

Nil detached his rappel cord from his waist, then tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. “I didn’t lose. I got exactly what I wanted.” He lowered his face to hers, and against her lips he whispered: “A fight and a fuck with a fire demon.” 

Aloy burst out laughing, and the sound of her joy echoed out over the jungle. Nil pulled her close with an answering grin and kissed her with surprising tenderness, then pinched her waist teasingly before rappelling down off the mesa. 

Aloy shook her head in fond exasperation before following him down. She would never be a fan of human-to-human combat, but if this was how sparring with Nil would be... it _might_ be something she’d be willing to repeat.


	5. Itamen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aloy and Nil have a training session with Itamen, and Itamen asks Nil some tricky questions. 
> 
> [My oneshot about Nil’s nightmare](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12317361/chapters/28145700) is recommended reading before diving into this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Tumblr friend northisnotup, who suggested the idea for this oneshot! Girl, you so full of neat ideas. <3 
> 
> Also, this oneshot became more introspective about family themes than I'd originally intended, but as some of you might have noticed by now, I'm like torn up every day about Rost dying, so... yep.
> 
> Finally, snuck a little line from A Song of Ice and Fire (i.e. Game of Thrones) in here.

“Aloy! What fortuitous timing. The Lady Nasadi could use your assistance. If you’ll come with me?” 

Aloy frowned with surprise. She had stopped by the palace primarily to check in with Avad and Vanasha, but she and Nil followed Marad nonetheless. “Nasadi needs _my_ assistance? With what?” she asked curiously. Ever since Vanasha and Aloy had rescued Itamen and Nasadi from Sunfall, Aloy had only ever seen the dowager queen in passing during her visits to the palace. She wasn’t sure what would prompt Nasadi to ask for her specifically.

Marad led them towards the royal family’s quarters. “It’s a matter concerning Prince Itamen. He’s seven years old now, and… well, I’ll allow His Radiance and the Lady Nasadi to explain the situation to you.” 

Aloy frowned even more deeply. Avad was involved in this too? She looked up at Nil as they followed Marad through the palace halls. “Do you mind? Hopefully this won’t take long.”

Nil shrugged and gave her a half-smile. “I go where you go,” he replied. He was in a good mood; they’d eliminated a small group of bandits just outside of Meridian Village that morning. 

Aloy squeezed his hand gratefully as they walked past a small group of palace guards and into the main room of the royal family’s quarters. Nasadi was sitting on a divan with her arm around Itamen, and Avad was crouched on the ground in front of her. Avad seemed to be speaking to her very earnestly, but she wasn’t looking at him; her eyes were on her son as she carefully tucked his short dark hair into the purple silk scarf tied elaborately around his head. 

As Aloy, Nil and Marad approached, Avad looked up, and his face brightened with a welcoming smile. “Aloy! How fortunate! We were just talking about you.” He warmly squeezed Aloy’s proffered forearm, and nodded politely to Nil. 

Aloy raised one eyebrow. “Marad mentioned that. What’s this about?”

Avad folded his hands in front of him and threw Nasadi a cautious look. “Well, I suppose the first issue is whether you have any imminent plans, Aloy. We have something of a... conundrum, and we could use your help, but I’m afraid it may be, err, somewhat involved.”

Aloy cut him off before he could dither any further. “Avad, just tell me what’s going on. What do you need?” she demanded. 

“I would like for you to train Itamen in archery and combat,” Nasadi blurted. 

Aloy looked at her with high surprise. She had hardly ever heard the dowager queen speak, but Nasadi was on her feet, facing Aloy confidently. Hurriedly Avad broke in. “It’s tradition for royal sons to start training in combat when they’re six years old,” he explained to Aloy. “Itamen’s training commenced at Sunfall, but…” 

“Helis’s training was not appropriate,” Nasadi interrupted loudly. She was standing slightly in front of Itamen, as though to protect him from the other occupants of the room. “Vanasha and I managed to… stall Helis as much as we could. It’s _my_ wish that Itamen be spared from any further training. But His Radiance is insistent.” She shot Avad a tiny resentful look. 

“Avad is right,” Aloy said. She herself had begun training with Rost when she was six years old. “The earlier Itamen learns, the stronger he’ll be. But why me?” She frowned at Avad and Marad. “Who usually trains royal children?”

“The Captain of the Vanguard,” Avad replied. His face and voice were perfectly composed, but Aloy could detect a slight wilt to his shoulders. “But-”

“No,” Nasadi said firmly. “I won’t have Itamen taught by a…” She stopped and pursed her lips, but Aloy narrowed her eyes. 

“A _what?_ An Oseram?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. Erend was one of the most kind-hearted and loyal people Aloy knew, and an undeniably strong fighter. In Aloy’s opinion, a royal child would be lucky to be taught by Erend, and prejudice be damned.

But Nasadi raised her chin defiantly. “No. I won’t have Itamen taught by another large, violent man. He had enough of that from Helis.” 

Aloy opened her mouth to argue that Erend only _looked_ rough - really, he was a sweetheart - but her words died in her throat as Nasadi sat beside her son again and pulled him close. Nasadi kissed the top of Itamen’s scarfed head and curled her arm around him protectively, and Aloy swallowed hard to clear the sudden, unwelcome lump that lodged itself in her throat. 

Avad took a step closer to Aloy and Nil and lowered his voice. “I’ve tried to convince Lady Nasadi to let Itamen train with Erend, or even with Uthid, but she is quite insistent. If I’m perfectly honest, Vanasha was her first choice, but Vanasha’s assistance with governing the Sundom is far too valuable. She can’t take on other duties right now.”

Aloy tore her eyes away from Nasadi and Itamen to look at Avad in slight desperation. “There’s no one else who can do this?” Even as she asked, though, she knew it was something of a futile question; the only female Carja soldier she could think of was Janeva, and Janeva was obviously otherwise occupied. Furthermore, Aloy could only imagine Janeva’s reaction if she was asked to train the little prince because she was a woman. She wondered idly if Avad being the Sun-King would stop Janeva from breaking his arm. 

Avad gazed back at Aloy pleadingly. “I’m sorry, Aloy, but we really didn’t know who else to ask. Truly, we’re fortunate that you came to Meridian when you did. This argument has been… long-standing.” 

Aloy sighed and rubbed her forehead in frustration. Aloy almost never said no to a request for help, but she couldn’t possibly say yes in this case. Given the context, she understood Nasadi’s reluctance to have a man train her son, but Aloy did _not_ intend to stay in Meridian for long enough to train a child in combat. She knew better than anyone that this kind of training took years to perfect, and she was definitely not willing to remain in Meridian for this purpose. 

Aloy sighed again as her eyes drifted back to Nasadi and Itamen, and some of her annoyance mellowed as she watched them together. The little boy was curled up tightly against his mother, and Nasadi was gently stroking his cheek with her thumb while she whispered to him. A feeling of wistfulness suddenly swelled in Aloy’s chest. 

Finally she spoke. “I can’t be Itamen’s full-time trainer. I have other obligations. But… I have some suggestions for appropriate trainers. _Female_ trainers,” she added, as Nasadi looked up with a worried frown. “I’m willing to stay here for a week and start training Itamen while you speak with the women I suggest.” Nakoa and Talanah were both excellent warriors and hunters in their own right, and since they both lived in Meridian, either - or both - of them were perfectly placed to train the little prince, _if_ they were willing.

A slow smile lifted the corners of Nasadi’s lips, and beside her, Avad sighed quietly with relief. But Aloy wasn’t finished. She planted her hands on her hips. “I have one condition, though. Nil will train Itamen with me.” 

Aloy couldn’t tell whether Nil or Nasadi was more upset by this pronouncement. Nil placed a hand on her back and leaned in close to her ear. “Suntress, I don’t want to do this,” he murmured urgently. 

Meanwhile, Nasadi stood abruptly from the divan and stared in horror at Nil. “No. Absolutely not,” she retorted. “He’s no better than Helis!” 

Aloy placed a hand on Nil’s chest to placate him and glared at Nasadi. “Nil is the finest handler of blades among the Carja. Itamen would be privileged to learn even a scrap of what Nil knows. And I’ll be present the whole time.” She raised her chin and stared at Nasadi in challenge. “I’ll remind you that the only reason Helis isn’t around to terrorize _anyone_ anymore is thanks to Nil.” She paused to let this sink in, then said, “This is my condition. Take it or leave it. We have other places to be if we’re not wanted here.” 

Avad took a conciliatory step towards Nasadi. “My lady, remember too that Nil is family. Itamen will be safe with his brother, and with Aloy.” 

Beside her, Nil growled quietly with annoyance, and Aloy stroked his arm soothingly. She knew Nil felt no affiliation with the royal family - indeed, that he’d specifically sought to break his ties with them by changing his name - but she also knew that Avad was just trying to secure Nasadi’s agreement. 

Sure enough, Avad’s cajoling worked: Nasadi sighed, then sat slowly again beside Itamen. She looked at Aloy. “All right. I accept,” she said grudgingly. “Thank you, Aloy. For your time, and for the suggestions of other trainers.” Nasadi did not look at Nil as she spoke. 

Aloy nodded acknowledgement and made arrangements to start training Itamen the next morning. Then she and Nil headed for their little suite on the east-facing side of the palace. 

Once she and Nil were walking alone through the palace corridors, she looked up at him. “I’m sorry, Nil. I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I just…” She trailed off and rubbed her forehead again. “I didn’t want to do this by myself. I don’t know how to train a kid.” 

“Neither do I,” Nil replied flatly. “I don’t like children. Is my involvement really necessary?”

Aloy looked up at him and felt a pang of guilt: his face was utterly blank, clearly conveying his discomfort. She opened her mouth to tell him he didn’t have to… but something stopped her. The thought of Nasadi hugging Itamen kept squeezing her heart in a painful way, and for some reason, it just made her want Nil by her side even more than usual. 

As they drew level with their little suite, Aloy stopped Nil and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I know you don’t want to do this,” she said softly. “But… will you do it for me? I don’t want to do it alone.” 

Nil looked down at her with a faintly world-weary look on his face, but finally he gave her a half-smile and tucked a braid behind her ear. “All right, Suntress. I’ll come. Even though you look more like a hunted rabbit than a Stormbird right now.”

Aloy laughed, and some of her melancholy lifted. She pinched Nil’s abs in rebuke as she unlocked their suite and stepped inside. “How dare you? I do not look like a rabbit.” 

“Not anymore, you don’t,” he replied with a smirk as he followed her into their suite. She grinned at Nil, and they traded teasing insults for a few minutes while they removed their weapons and sorted through their pouches, separating the useful resources from the ones they intended to trade in the market. 

Eventually Nil settled himself on the chaise-lounge with a sigh. Aloy nestled down beside him on her side, with one leg thrown over his. Nil curved his arm around her and stroked her shoulder gently with his thumb. 

Aloy sighed happily as she absorbed the comfort of Nil’s easy embrace. But the hypnotic rhythm of his thumb on her shoulder led her thoughts back to Nasadi’s gentle thumb stroking Itamen’s cheek. 

“Nil… do you remember your mother?” she asked quietly. His mother had died when he was four or five years old, but Avad had mentioned to Aloy that Nil’s mother was the only one who’d been able to calm his childhood rages. 

Nil didn’t answer right away, and suddenly Aloy felt guilty for being nosy. Her curiosity - and her strange feeling of wistfulness - had gotten the best of her. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Nil spoke before she could. “A little bit. Not much.” 

He was quiet again, his thumb still sliding slowly against her shoulder. Aloy curled herself more closely against his chest. “What do you remember?” she whispered. 

Nil shrugged. “Grey eyes. Long black hair.” Aloy listened to the soothing, even rhythm of his breathing for a long moment. Then he spoke again. “Nice singing voice. And that’s all, really.” 

Aloy slid her arm around his waist and hugged him tightly. That aching feeling was in her throat again.

“Why do you ask?” Nil murmured. 

Aloy shrugged and swallowed. “Just… thinking about... Nasadi and Itamen.” _And Rost._ As Aloy had gotten older and more single-minded about the Proving, Rost had taken on a role more like a teacher and trainer rather than parent. But Aloy wished now that she’d told him more often how much she appreciated him… maybe hugged him once in awhile.

A pang of grief clawed at her throat, and she buried her face in Nil’s chest. She breathed deeply for a moment and listened to the slow, reassuring thud of his heartbeat. 

“Do you miss your mother?” Aloy asked suddenly. Then she immediately wanted to slap herself for being so tactless.

But Nil didn't seem to notice. He shrugged as he slid his hand lazily along the length of her arm. “No,” he said. “I didn't know her. Besides, family has never been any use to me.” He said the word _family_ the way that other people might speak of the contents of a latrine, and Aloy couldn't help but smile, albeit with a touch of sadness for him. 

But Nil wasn’t finished. “There's only one person I need. And lightning surges through her veins instead of blood.” 

Aloy smiled as a surge of tenderness washed over her. She hugged Nil more tightly. “That sounds dangerous. She should probably see a healer.” 

She felt Nil’s chuckle as a vibration through his chest. Then he rolled over so Aloy was trapped beneath him on the chaise-lounge. “No need for a healer,” he purred. “I can do this examination.” 

Aloy snickered as Nil nuzzled her neck. “Yeah right. You can’t even bandage your own wounds. You couldn’t examine a broken blade of grass.” Then she squealed with laughter as he tickled her ribs. 

“Quiet now. I need to concentrate,” Nil growled playfully as his hands slid over her ribs to unbuckle her vest. 

Aloy smiled and stretched luxuriously as Nil slowly pulled off her clothes piece by piece. But a small corner of her mind couldn’t help but marvel at this difference between her and Nil. His mother’s passing didn’t seem to bother him at all… but if Aloy could have a chance to undo Rost’s death, she would take it in a heartbeat.

***********************

The next morning, Vanasha met Aloy and Nil at the palace’s private training ring with Itamen in tow. Vanasha had told Aloy the previous evening that Nasadi wanted to supervise Itamen’s training, and that Avad had only managed to prevent this by promising that Vanasha would escort Itamen to the ring until Itamen got comfortable. 

Vanasha smiled ruefully at Aloy. “One little prince, as promised,” she quipped. Then she knelt in front Itamen and chucked his chin gently. “Listen to Aloy carefully. Do as she tells you.” 

Itamen nodded silently, and Vanasha pointed to a bench at the edge of the ring. “I’ll be over there for a little while, but then you’ll have to be brave and stay here by yourself with Aloy and Nil. All right?”

The prince nodded again, his little face somber. Aloy wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a child who looked so serious. Vanasha straightened up and smiled again at Aloy. “He’s all yours,” she said. Then she threw a disdainful glance at Nil, who was standing just behind Aloy with his arms folded. “Don’t frighten him,” she said threateningly, then swayed off towards the bench without waiting for a response. 

Nil snorted softly. Aloy ignored this and crouched down in front of Itamen. She’d decided that the best way to approach this training was to emulate what Rost had done with her: teach Itamen the same way she would teach any adult. 

“We’re going to start with archery,” she said. She held out a small child’s bow to Itamen. “This is the grip. Hold the bow here,” she instructed, and Itamen took hold of the bow while Aloy explained the parts of the bow. She showed Itamen a practice arrow and labelled the parts of the arrow for him as well. All the while as Aloy was teaching him, he didn’t say a word. 

Then she stood and used Nil as a model to demonstrate an archer’s stance. “See, Nil’s feet are shoulder-width apart. His hips and shoulders are perpendicular to the target. Okay?” 

Itamen nodded and silently copied Nil’s stance, his eyebrows drawn with concentration. Out of the corner of her eye, Aloy saw Vanasha quietly slip away to return to her duties.

Aloy looked back down at Itamen to find the small boy staring intently up at Nil, who was gazing blankly back. The serious expression on Itamen’s face made him look like a miniature brown-eyed version of Nil. Aloy cleared her throat somewhat awkwardly, then resumed her teaching; step by step, with Aloy’s explanation, Nil drew the bow and nocked an arrow, then loosed the arrow at a practice target. 

After a few more demonstration shots, Aloy had Itamen practice shooting while Nil stood silently just behind her. Itamen was obedient and cooperative, but Aloy couldn’t help but notice that he kept glancing warily at Nil. 

After some time, when Itamen was sweating from exertion, Aloy allowed him a brief break and a drink of water. But as Aloy lifted her Oseram flask to her lips, Itamen suddenly spoke.

“Why did Mother say you’re no better than Helis?” 

Itamen was looking at Nil, who raised one eyebrow. “Because I’m a killer, and so was Helis,” he said bluntly. 

Aloy bit her lip nervously. Neither she nor Nil had been briefed on how to answer these kinds of questions, but she was fairly sure Nasadi wouldn’t be pleased if she’d heard Nil’s answer. But before she could interject, Itamen was asking another question. “If you’re a killer like Helis, why does the Sun King let you in the palace? Aren’t you an enemy?” He was gazing at Nil with a surprising amount of challenge in his face, but Aloy noticed that his hands were trembling. 

Nil looked faintly annoyed by the younger boy’s questions, but he still answered. “Helis killed anyone that he considered weak. That meant basically everyone. Most people would consider that unacceptable. _I_ , on the other hand, only kill bandits. And Eclipse soldiers. It’s… acceptable to kill them. Or so I’m told.” He glanced at Aloy for confirmation. 

Aloy nodded slightly, then came and crouched in front of Itamen. She was fairly sure she and Nil would be scolded later for having this conversation with him, but she couldn’t help but empathize with a young child wanting to know the answers. “Helis killed people who didn’t do anything wrong,” she explained to Itamen. “Nil only kills people who have done bad things. That’s the difference between Helis and Nil. And it is a fine line,” she conceded. “That’s what your mother meant.” 

Itamen was quiet for a moment, but he continued to warily watch Nil, who stared back at him impassively. Finally Itamen nodded, then looked at Aloy with obedient expectancy. 

She gave Nil a wary look; somehow she didn’t think the questions were going to end here, but they might as well get back to their lesson in the meantime. “Nil will start teaching you about knife handling,” she said, and she stepped back to give Nil the floor. Avad had mentioned that noble families typically focused on mastering swords and scimitars, but Nil had insisted on starting with a combat knife, and Aloy trusted his judgment. 

Nil sighed heavily, then walked over to the armoury and selected a short training knife. He hunkered down in front of Itamen and flipped the knife into a forward grip. “Hold the knife like this,” he said brusquely. “Your strength is in these three fingers. Your thumb along the spine will guide the knife into your victim. You’ll be able to pierce the tender organs strong and true.” 

Itamen flinched at Nil’s macabre words, but he reached for the knife with a trembling hand. Nil helped the boy to take the training knife and silently adjusted his grip. Then Nil unsheathed his own wickedly sharp combat knife and rose to his feet. “Different blades sing different songs. You have to learn the melody of your blade. Never force a blade to carry a tune it’s not made for, or your enemy will be singing a victory chant over your corpse. Do you understand?” 

Itamen’s eyes were huge now as he held the practice knife and stared up at Nil. Nil folded his arms and gazed down at Itamen with barely leashed impatience. “A knife is for cutting and stabbing,” he stated bluntly. “A spear is for _striking_ and stabbing, and sometimes for throwing. That’s the melody of your weapon. Learn it and never veer from it.” 

Itamen finally nodded, and Nil sighed. “Drills,” he announced in a bored voice. “Copy this: slashes in an X-shape.” He demonstrated the drill for Itamen, slowly at first, then more quickly, then while swapping the knife from his right hand to his left hand with smooth, graceful movements. 

He glanced at Itamen dispassionately as he demonstrated the drill. “You can pretend you’re slashing at a bandit’s chest over and over while you practice this. It’ll keep you from getting bored.” 

To Aloy’s surprise, Itamen suddenly smiled; it was a small but a true smile that reached the corners of his brown eyes. He took his place beside Nil and began awkwardly copying Nil’s motions. 

A few minutes later, Nil stopped Itamen and showed him another drill that involved slashing in a horizontal and then a vertical movement. “Pretend you’re slicing along a bandit’s throat and then his sternum this time,” Nil said lazily. 

Itamen smiled more widely, and Aloy couldn’t help but smile as well. She knew that Nil wasn’t joking, but Itamen clearly interpreted Nil’s dry, sarcastic delivery as humour. She was quite sure Nasadi would be spitting bolts if she found out how Nil was motivating her son, but this was literally the first time Aloy had ever seen the boy smile. 

And so Nil’s lesson continued. He continued making snarky, bloody remarks while he demonstrated, and eventually Itamen relaxed to the point that he was laughing. Aloy simply sat on the ground and enjoyed the sight of Nil winning over his little brother entirely without meaning to. 

After some time, when Itamen’s cheeks were flushed and he was panting from his enthusiastic exertions, Aloy signalled to Nil to take a break. Nil prompted Itamen to stop, then folded his arms and eyed the little prince with grudging but unmistakeable approval. “That's enough for now. Practice this on your own. Maybe I'll show you some lunging maneuvers sometime. That's how I killed Helis.” He grinned ghoulishly as he sheathed his knife with a flourish. 

Itamen’s face abruptly went white, and the excitement leached from his face. Aloy, alerted to the sudden change in Itamen’s manner, got to her feet and cautiously walked over to him and Nil, uncertain whether Nil would notice the abrupt change.

But she needn't have worried: if there was any emotion Nil was a master at detecting, it was fear. He frowned suddenly at Itamen. “Why are you afraid?” he asked the little boy.

Itamen swallowed hard and stared up at Nil, but he didn't answer. Aloy crouched beside him. “Is it Helis?” she asked gently. 

Itamen nodded, his eyes still on Nil. Nil frowned more deeply still. “You have no reason to be afraid of Helis. He's gone. Even the faintest traces of his blood have been washed from the palace stones.” 

“But…” Itamen’s voice was barely a whisper, and then he trailed off. 

Nil heaved another irritated sigh and sat in the dirt beside Itamen. He gave the child a frank look. “Memories of Helis shouldn’t cause you fear. They’re a mark of victory. You survived two years at the hands of the so-called Terror of the Sun. Not many people can make that claim.”

Aloy watched Nil, breathless with amazement, as he waved a hand at her. “Helis tried to kill Aloy. She survived, and look how strong she is.” Then Nil leaned his weight back on his hands. “I faced Helis head-on and I won. Look how strong I am.” 

He raised one sardonic eyebrow at Itamen, who was listening raptly. “You lived under his rule and didn’t die. You should be strong too, not hiding behind your mother’s skirts.”

Aloy winced slightly at this, but to her surprise, Itamen didn’t wilt at Nil’s harsh words; he raised his little chin and scowled at Nil. “I don’t hide behind my mother’s skirts!” 

Nil smirked tauntingly at him. “Yes you do. We saw you curled up on the couch behind her yesterday, silent like a rabbit in the grass. But no rabbit can hide from a good hunter forever.”

Itamen’s cheeks flushed. “I do _not_ hide!” he retorted, and he punched Nil in the shoulder. 

Suddenly Nil grabbed Itamen’s ankles and pulled his feet out from under him. Itamen fell hard on his bottom with an “oof!” of surprise.

Nil smirked again as Itamen struggled to a sitting position. “Never attack someone unless you’re prepared to be attacked in return,” he informed the boy prince.

Aloy bit her lips and covered her mouth with one hand to stop herself from laughing, even as her heart throbbed with bittersweet affection. Nil’s matter-of-fact manner was so similar to how Rost had treated her as a child, although Nil was certainly much more mocking than Rost had ever been. 

Itamen glared at Nil, who stared back with the flat eyes of a snake. Itamen then punched Nil in the chest, and Nil gently shoved Itamen’s shoulder in retaliation so that Itamen fell over on his side. Then Itamen suddenly laughed as he pushed himself upright. 

Aloy shook her head slightly in fond exasperation. This kind of foolish joshing around was how Erend and his Vanguard friends often behaved. _Boys,_ she thought to herself with resignation.

The three of them sat quietly in the dirt of the training ring for a moment. Then suddenly Itamen addressed Nil again. “I saw men getting crushed by Behemoths in the Sun Ring.” 

Aloy held her breath as she waited for Nil to reply. He shrugged casually. “So?”

Itamen swallowed and gazed at Nil quietly for a long moment. Nil finally raised one quizzical eyebrow at Itamen. “What else did you see?” he asked. 

Itamen blinked in surprise at Nil, then blurted, “I saw bodies being pulled out of the Sun Ring. One of them left his legs behind.” 

Aloy’s stomach roiled at the thought of Itamen witnessing such horrific gore. But Nil only raised his eyebrows in a _not-bad_ kind of expression. “That must have been bloody,” he said with approval.

Itamen frowned suddenly at Nil as though Nil was teasing him. Then a tentative, tiny smile creased the corners of his brown eyes. Itamen spoke again, and his voice sounded very cautious. “I also saw a Ravager blow a man up with its canon.”

Nil nodded acknowledgement. “Very bloody,” he replied. “But not very elegant.”

Aloy watched in fascination as Itamen’s shoulders sagged with relief. He seemed to find Nil’s blasé responses comforting, somehow. The little boy shuffled closer to Nil and continued talking. “There were Watchers outside my room every night. Helis said they were there to protect me and Mother. But… I didn’t like them. Watchers are scary.”

“Watchers aren’t scary,” Nil replied matter-of-factly. “Aloy will teach you how to destroy them. Then you can stand over their scraps in victory.”

Itamen smiled again… and then he leaned against Nil’s arm.

Nil flinched slightly and glanced at Aloy for help, but Aloy just shrugged and grimaced apologetically. “Sorry,” she mouthed to him. This was the most relaxed and _normal_ she had seen Itamen behaving ever since she’d met him. He was usually so subdued, like a silent little shadow in his mother’s wake. If Nil was (however unwittingly) making Itamen feel comfortable, Aloy didn’t want to spoil it by interfering.

Nil clenched his jaw, then sighed heavily. “What else did you see?” he asked again, in a very flat voice. 

Itamen’s voice was muffled as he curled against Nil’s arm. “One time, I saw a soldier stealing food from another soldier. They got in a fight, and the soldier stabbed the other soldier in the leg, and then…” He swallowed hard and pressed his face against Nil’s arm. “Helis made me watch while he whipped them. He said I’d have to do that someday. But I don’t want to whip anyone.” His voice rose in pitch with distress.

Nil wrinkled his nose in dismay as Itamen cuddled against him, but Itamen continued talking, his words pouring out in a high-pitched rush, and Aloy realized with a pang that this was probably the first time he’d talked about this to anyone. 

“Helis told Mother that I’m weak, and that Father would be ashamed of me,” Itamen said. Suddenly he hiccuped, and a tear ran down his face. 

Slowly Aloy shifted closer to Itamen and Nil and pulled a linen bandage from her healing pouch. She took Itamen’s hand and gently pressed the bandage into his palm. Itamen hiccuped out another little sob and wiped his cheeks. 

Nil’s face was expressionless as he gazed at Itamen’s tears. “Your father was weak. He let other men and machines do his killing for him. He wasn’t fit to judge strength.” 

Itamen sniffled and looked up at Nil with watery eyes. “But Helis said…”

Nil snorted derisively, then grinned down at Itamen. “Helis is _dead_. I killed him. His words are wind. He was weak too, in his way. Too afraid to face an opponent stronger than him. He was afraid to face Aloy.” He reached out and proudly flicked one of Aloy’s braids over her shoulder.

“Not entirely true,” Aloy muttered, but she gave Nil a fond smile anyway. Then she looked seriously into Itamen’s tearful face. “Being scared doesn’t mean you’re weak. Everybody gets scared sometimes. Almost everybody,” she amended with a glance at Nil, who shrugged easily. “Being strong doesn’t mean you have no fear. It means learning how to master your fear. _That’s_ what these lessons are about. Not just learning to fight, but learning to be brave. Even when you’re scared.”

Itamen sniffled again and looked askance at Nil, who glanced briefly at Aloy then shiftily said, “Yes. What she said.”

Aloy bit the inside of her cheek to stop from smiling. She knew Nil didn’t really agree with her, that he was only interested in the fighting, but he had no problem holding his tongue if it would serve her argument. 

Itamen sniffled once more, then nodded agreement and leaned against Nil’s arm again. Nil heaved an annoyed little sigh and raised his eyebrows expectantly at Aloy. 

Suddenly Aloy wondered what time it was. She stood and jogged over to the training ring’s sundial and realized with surprise that they’d been here for over two hours. 

She jogged back to Nil and Itamen. “We should get you home,” she told Itamen. “It’ll be lunchtime soon.” Itamen nodded agreeably, and together the three of them headed towards the royal family’s quarters, with Itamen walking between Aloy and Nil.

Suddenly Nil shot Itamen an irritated look. Aloy frowned quizzically at him, then looked down at Itamen, and her heart skipped a bittersweet beat: Nil’s hands were in his pockets, but Itamen had hooked his hand around Nil’s wrist and was clutching his arm as they walked. 

Aloy smiled to herself and continued walking. When they reached the family quarters, Nasadi greeted them with an anxious look on her face. Her eyes widened with shock as she noticed Itamen’s grip on Nil’s wrist. 

“How did it go? Did he get hurt at all?” Nasadi asked as she knelt in front of Itamen and fussed with his plain white headscarf. 

“It went well. He's a very good student,” Aloy replied. 

Nasadi beamed at her and began to lift Itamen up, but Itamen resisted, and his grip on Nil’s arm tightened. He looked up at Nil and Aloy. “Will we have lessons tomorrow?” he asked eagerly. 

“Yes,” Aloy answered. “Same time, tomorrow morning.” 

Itamen looked up at Nil. “Will you come too?” he asked desperately.

Nil shot Aloy a long-suffering look, and Aloy answered for him. “Nil might be busy tomorrow,” she said firmly. But Itamen continued to stare pleadingly at Nil. “Please?” he asked. 

Despite herself, Aloy couldn’t help but glance askance at Nil. His jaw was clenched, but finally he shrugged jerkily. “Maybe,” he grunted. 

Itamen squeezed Nil’s arm once more, then finally allowed his mother to lead him away. As they left, Nasadi turned to Aloy. “Thank you,” she said softly. Then she nodded a polite thanks to Nil as well. 

As Nasadi and Itamen drifted into the living room, Aloy turned to Nil and smoothed her hand lovingly down his arm. “You did good,” she told him softly. 

Nil shrugged bad-temperedly. “I don’t like children.”

“I know,” Aloy said gently. “You don’t have to come tomorrow if you don’t want to. It’s up to you.” 

Nil shrugged again, then sighed and gave Aloy a half-smile. “You hungry?” 

Aloy smiled back. “Starving,” she confirmed, and they headed for the double doors that led from the family quarters back to the main palace. But before they reached the doors, Nil suddenly stopped and turned his head slightly to the side, as though he’d heard a strange sound.

Aloy gave him a quizzical look, then listened carefully. From the living room, she could hear the soft sound of a woman singing.

_The sun goes down, the moon will rise_  
_Sleep will come, just close your eyes_  
_Have no fear, my little one_  
_The morning comes and so the Sun_

_The stars glow bright above the moon_  
_But we look forward to high noon_  
_Enjoy your dreams, my little one_  
_‘Till morning comes and so the Sun._

Aloy watched Nil carefully. He was as still as a statue, his face utterly and completely blank, but the tendon in his neck was standing out tensely. Tentatively Aloy took Nil’s hand, and he clutched her fingers tightly. 

Eventually Nasadi stopped singing, and Aloy watched Nil’s chest rise as he inhaled: he’d been holding his breath. 

“Do you know that song?” Aloy asked softly.

Nil shrugged. “It’s just a Carja lullaby.” He was silent for a long moment. Then finally he looked down at her. “Let’s go,” he said.

Aloy swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, and knowing Nil, maybe he wasn’t sure either… but she knew that if he wanted to talk about it, he would. So she nodded agreement. “Okay,” she whispered. 

She wrapped her arm comfortingly around his waist, and together they walked towards the double doors and back out into the Carja sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to northisnotup for the very creative idea! 
> 
> If anyone has any other oneshot ideas or prompts, [feel free to message me on Tumblr. ](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) I won't promise that I'll write every prompt, but I'm always open to inspiration!


	6. Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nil and Erend go drinking together and have some manly bonding time, and Erend asks Nil about his nickname for Aloy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This oneshot takes place during Carja Wedding, after [Nil invites Erend to join him in a bandit hunt.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12189531/chapters/27815859)
> 
> This oneshot is dedicated to Vythika, who suggested the idea of Nil explaining Aloy's nickname. Thanks for the idea, and for being such a lovely reader and commenter!! xoxoxo!

Erend stared in disbelief at Nil as they walked through Meridian’s market. “Wait a second. You’re telling me you were using hunter arrows that entire time? _Hunter_ arrows. Like the kind you use to catch bunnies?”

Nil shrugged and smirked smugly. “I didn’t have any precision arrows. And I couldn't make any more. Aloy took our whole stock of wire on her machine hunt.” 

Erend shook his head incredulously as he led Nil towards his favourite Oseram tavern. “I don’t believe you. I saw you land perfect headshots from seventy paces away. A hunter’s bow doesn’t have that range.”

“The key isn’t in the bow,” Nil drawled. “It’s in the hunter. If you crave the kill enough, the wounds just open themselves to your arrows.” 

Erend snorted. “That’s definitely boarshit, but whatever. You won fair and square, so drinks are on me tonight.” Erend pulled open the doors to The Twisted Cog, and a warm wave of driving Oseram drumbeats and raucous laughter washed over him as he led Nil inside.

Erend and Nil had just returned from bandit hunting all afternoon. Erend was still frankly shocked that Nil had invited him to come along; after all, he was quite sure that Nil didn’t like him, or at most that Nil tolerated his company for Aloy’s sake. But Erend had to admit that it had been interesting to see Aloy’s fiancé in action.

 _Interesting might be an understatement,_ Erend thought to himself as he preceded Nil towards the bar; _disturbing but impressive_ would be a more accurate description of what he’d witnessed today. Nil had coolly sniped all of the camp’s sentries using only feeble hunter arrows, then he and Erend had surged recklessly into the camp to take out the remaining bandits head-on. Erend still couldn’t decide whether to be amazed or horrified at how viciously but efficiently Nil had dispatched the majority of the bandits with nothing but his combat knife. 

As the two men moved through the crowded tavern, Erend became aware of a change in the quality of the chatter: boisterous conversations hushed abruptly before breaking into even louder talk. Erend was fully aware that the presence of a Carja in their midst was the reason for the commotion. Technically anyone was welcome in The Twisted Cog, but in practice the clientele was still primarily Oseram, and the outlanders brave enough to venture into the noisy Oseram-style establishment were few and far-between. 

Nil, in particular, was probably the one Carja whom the occupants of the bar would least expect to see in Erend’s company. Most of the Oseram that Erend knew had _very_ mixed feelings towards Nil: on the one hand, he was still perceived by many as the Shadow Carja prince, the raider who had killed some of their finest Freebooters during the Red Raids; on the other hand, he was the mate of the flame-haired Nora huntress whom many Oseram viewed as being an honorary Oseram herself. 

Erend held his chin high and solicitously clapped Nil on the shoulder as they reached the bar. Creepy or not, Aloy’s fiancé was his guest tonight, and Erend would make sure he was treated with the utmost hospitality. 

“Hey, Lorna! Two triples!” Erend held up two fingers to the bartender, who winked heartily at him while she simultaneously filled three other orders. Then Erend turned towards Nil, who was leaning back against the bar with his arms folded.

The erstwhile Carja prince’s face was a picture of haughty boredom as his pale grey eyes flicked dispassionately around the tavern. _He couldn’t look more like a royal Carja ass if he tried,_ Erend thought with amusement, and he punched Nil amiably in the arm. 

Immediately Nil dropped his regal posture and frowned at Erend. “What?” 

“You stand there looking like a pompous slag, someone’s gonna think you're looking for a fight,” Erend told him.

Nil gifted Erend with a slow, chilling grin. “Now that would be _my_ idea of a good time. Shall we start a brawl?” He tilted his head quizzically to the side, a benign expression that was offset by the predatory smirk lifting the corner of his lips. 

“Uh, maybe later. Let’s have these drinks first, yeah?” Hastily Erend swept up one of the tumblers that Lorna had slid across the bar and shoved it into Nil’s hand, then gulped at his own tumbler of Scrappersap, finishing half the drink in one gulp. 

Nil matched him easily, and within moments the two men had finished their drinks. Erend wordlessly held up two fingers to Lorna again, who rolled her eyes good-naturedly before sliding two more tumblers across the bar. 

Erend picked up his drink and glanced to a table off to the left, where some of his off-duty comrades and friends from the Claim were arguing good-naturedly. Two of them waved enthusiastically for him to join them, and he nodded a brief acknowledgement before turning to Nil. “Hey, d’you want to come have a seat with some of the guys? They've got a table over there. Lots of room for us.” 

Nil immediately shook his head. “No. I'm staying here.” Then he seated himself comfortably on a barstool and sipped his drink. 

Erend sighed internally as he hefted himself onto a barstool beside Nil. It looked like he and Nil would be spending the evening just the two of them. Out of the corner of his eye he glanced at the Carja killer, who was scanning the tavern idly and showing no indication of wanting to talk. 

Erend tugged awkwardly at his earring and took another gulp of Scrappersap. Why was it that Aloy was so easy to talk to, but Erend couldn't think of a single damn thing to say to her taciturn fiancé? 

Finally Erend seized onto some desperate small talk. “I saw Luka in the market the other day. She said she's going to be a witness at the wedding?” 

“Yes,” Nil confirmed. Then he sipped his drink again and said nothing more. 

_Fire and spit, it's like pulling teeth from a Snapmaw,_ Erend thought ruefully. “What about Taran? Is he coming?” 

Nil shook his head. “I haven't seen him in months. He's probably still with the Tenakth. Or maybe he's dead.” He shrugged unconcernedly. 

Erend recoiled slightly at this cold statement, then wondered why he was still surprised by anything that came out of Nil’s mouth. But there was a stubborn little part of his mind that always squawked about _how_ the hell Aloy had ended up choosing Nil of all people, when she practically had the world at her feet.

Erend was well-practiced at shutting down this part of his brain by now. After all, he knew for fact that Nil was different around Aloy; he'd seen the look on Nil’s face as he gazed at the Nora huntress, and the way his body seemed to gravitate towards her whenever she was in the room. Erend knew that the shiny scars on Nil’s left arm and neck were from the firebomb he’d taken to protect Aloy from Helis. He might be… weird, but the guy was totally devoted to Aloy. So Erend was determined that the least he could do for his best friend was _try_ to find common ground with her fiancé. And what better common ground than Aloy herself? 

Erend drained his drink and nodded a silent thanks to Lorna, who had just placed two fresh tumblers of Scrappersap in front of him and Nil; the clever bartender seemed to have decided that she should just keep the drinks coming. He turned to Nil. “So, Aloy is really not excited about this wedding, huh?” 

Nil’s face broke into a genuine smile, and Erend felt some of the awkward tension leave his shoulders. Nil chuckled and said, “No. She hates it. She and Vanasha had words this morning.” He smirked and threw back the rest of his Scrappersap, then idly ran his thumb around the rim of his next drink. 

Erend raised his eyebrows with interest. “What happened?” 

Nil grinned more widely still. “Aloy said that if she has to hear one more word about seating the Carja nobles at the ceremony according to rank, she’d throw herself off the balcony and she'd take Vanasha with her.” 

Erend burst out laughing. “That's our Aloy. All the subtlety of a piston-powered hammer. Cheers to that.” He lifted his drink to Nil, and the two men clinked their tumblers together in praise of the flame-haired Nora. 

Erend was still chuckling as he sipped from his tumbler. “That girl takes no shit from anybody. You know when she first came to Meridian, the first thing she did was ask me if I'd been drinking on the job? Not even a ‘hey Erend, good to see you’. She doesn't tiptoe around, does she?”

Nil smirked and took a healthy swallow of Scrappersap. “Only in bandit camps, where her only footprints are silence and well-earned death. But it's true, she doesn't curb her words to suit the flow of the listener. Straight truth is all that falls from her lips.” He gave an uncharacteristic little snicker and raised one eyebrow at Erend. “I always enjoy seeing her argue with Marad. It's like watching a Charger attack a fluttering bolt of silk. Usually he slips away from her, but when she manages to pin him down…” Nil grinned as he lifted his tumbler to his lips again.

Erend guffawed and pounded his fist on the bar. “Yes! Exactly. Aww… that's exactly what it's like.” Erend eyed Nil appreciatively as Nil placed his empty tumbler on the bar and inclined his head in regal thanks to Lorna, who had just delivered yet another round. 

Nil sipped his drink, then smirked at Erend. “When I first started travelling with her, I questioned her once about how she crafted her hunter arrows. I tried to tell her she should use wire instead of Nora cord to join the arrowhead to the shaft.” 

Erend barked out a laugh of disbelief. “Are you nuts?” 

Nil rolled his tumbler between his palms as he replied. “I didn't know her that well yet. Anyway, she said she'd been taking down Watchers and Grazers for longer than I’d been lacing up my own sandals, and to sit down and shut up.” He downed the rest of his drink, then grinned ruefully at Erend. “Unfortunately, I didn't sit down and shut up. So she challenged me to put our arrows to the test. I had to take one of her arrows and one of mine, and see how many times I could shoot the same arrow into a tree before the arrowhead parted from the shaft.” 

Erend listened with great amusement as Nil turned on his stool and leaned back against the bar. “Naturally, she won: her arrow took six shots to shatter, while mine shattered in three. I never questioned her about arrowcraft again after that.” 

“Hah! Serves you right,” Erend chuckled. He raised his tumbler to his mouth and was surprised to find it was empty already. He was also surprised that Nil was being so talkative. _He must be drunk,_ Erend thought. Then he wondered how many drinks they’d had. He was feeling a very pleasant buzz, so it must have been… at least three, now?

“Hey!” Erend said suddenly, as something occurred to him. “That’s why your hunter arrows are so effective at long-range. You use Aloy’s recipe!” _Recipe?_ That wasn't the word he meant. Erend frowned at himself. He must be drunker than he thought. 

Nil laughed - actually _laughed_ \- and picked up a new tumbler. “Yes, I use her methods now to make all my ammo. Suntress’s formulas for instant death.” He drained his cup all in one and raised a cocky eyebrow at Erend. “But I still have to take some credit for my own kills. Suntress isn't the only expert archer.” 

“Why d’you call her that?” Erend asked abruptly. “Suntress. That’s your nickname for her, right? Why?” 

Nil’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment before his face returned to its usual inscrutable expression. “It’s... her name,” he said bluntly, as though this was obvious. “It’s more her name than her birth name.” 

Erend peered carefully at him. “But _you_ came up with it. Right?” Nil nodded, and Erend pressed on. “How’d that happen? What’s the story there?”

Nil shrugged and swirled his Scrappersap before sipping from it. “Isn’t it obvious? She’s a huntress with hair scalded red as though by the sun, but who walks unscathed through the sun’s lands, impervious to the harshness of its rays.” 

Erend stared at him, momentarily silenced by the imagery evoked by Nil’s description. “Wow. That was… poetic.” Then Erend smirked. “I didn’t take you for a believer in the Sun Faith.” 

“I’m not,” Nil retorted immediately. “I’m just speaking the truth. Priests swaddled in their crimson sheets hold no power over me. There's only one person whose word I’ll take as law, and she'll be my wife in… five days.” He grinned at Erend. Usually Nil’s grin gave his face a feral, vicious cast, but at this moment, his smile seemed… friendly, somehow. 

Erend grinned and slugged back his drunk before speaking again. “So the nickname just stuck, even after she told you her real name?” he asked. 

“She didn’t tell me her name. I found out by chance from some merchant in the market.”

Erend lowered his tumbler slowly and looked at Nil in confusion. “What… what d’you mean, she didn’t tell you her name?” 

Nil shrugged. “She didn’t tell me. I always called her Suntress, and she never corrected me. When I _did_ discover her birth name, she told me not to use it.”

Erend shook his head and waved a hand vaguely. “Wait wait, wait a sec. How long did it take… How long did you go without knowing her real name?” 

Nil tilted his head thoughtfully as he swilled some Scrappersap around in his mouth. He swallowed, then said, “I’m not sure. A few months, I think.” 

Erend choked suddenly; in his surprise, some Scrappersap had snuck its way down the wrong pipe, and Erend coughed to try and clear the oily liquor from his throat. “ _Months?_ ” he sputtered. “You didn’t know her name for months?” 

Nil frowned. “I _did_ know her name. I spoke the name that fits her and that she prefers from me. That’s the name that matters.” 

Erend stared at Nil. Even with Nil’s twisted reasoning, he couldn’t wrap his mind around this. How could a person be in a relationship with someone for months without knowing their name? Wasn’t that essential information to know about the person you were with?

“So did you know her real name before you guys, uhh…. you know…” Erend made a vaguely suggestive hand gesture, then trailed off as his Scrappersap-sodden brain belatedly caught up with his mouth. With a slow dawning of horror, he realized that he’d just asked his best friend’s murderous fiancé about their sex life. 

Erend tugged his earring in distress; he could feel his face burning with embarrassment. He grimaced apologetically. “Hey, I didn’t mean… it’s none of my business, I shouldn’t have asked…” 

But to Erend’s surprise, Nil smirked at him. “They say that the only men who ask about other men’s carnal escapades are the ones who don’t get enough of their own.” 

Erend gaped at him again, then suddenly burst into raucous laughter. Then he punched Nil in the shoulder. “Ahhh, you’re probably right,” he sighed, then pulled over two more tumblers of Scrappersap for himself and Nil. “It’s been a dry spell lately. Not that I’ve been looking for anything, you know... busy with Vanguard stuff…” Then Erend stopped himself in the middle of his rambling. Why was he telling Nil this? Nil was practically a stranger. 

Erend rubbed his spinning head. Then Nil surprised him yet again by replying. “That’s strange. I was under the impression you were… popular with women. That’s what Suntress said, at least.” 

Erend looked up at Nil in surprise. Aloy had said that? Then Erend’s surprise swiftly turned to horror as Nil continued. “She told me that you attempted to hit on her the first time you met.” Nil raised one eyebrow and sipped his drink before landing his final verbal punch. “Are you still in love with her?”

 _Fire. And. Spit,_ Erend thought desperately. How had this conversation gone from entertaining to awkward so quickly? “No!” he blurted. “No, of course not. She’s like a sister to me. And I wasn’t in love with her,” he scoffed, but he could feel his face burning. “I was just a stupid idiot flirting with a pretty girl. I mean, not that I think she’s pretty. I mean…” 

Hastily Erend gulped the remainder of his drink. Finally he turned to Nil and firmly said, “Aloy’s like my sister. I’m definitely _not_ in love with her.” 

Nil stared at him flatly. “Good,” he said. “Otherwise I’d have to kill you.”

Erend stared back at Nil, and a chill ran down his back. 

Then Nil suddenly grinned, and to Erend’s total shock, Nil elbowed him jokingly. “I’m kidding. Drink this. You clearly need it.” He shoved his half-finished tumbler of Scrappersap in Erend’s direction. 

Erend took it hesitantly. “You didn’t… poison it, did you?” He wouldn’t put it past the Carja killer. 

Nil gave him a deeply offended look. “Poison is for priests and underhanded assassins. I’d never kill you that dishonourably. I’d at least give you a chance to defend your life. You wouldn’t succeed, but I’d give you the chance. It would be a good fight.” He jerked his chin at the tumbler in Erend’s hand. “Drink.” 

Erend glanced suspiciously at Nil. He wasn’t sure, but he thought there might be a compliment hidden in there somewhere. “Thanks. I think,” he said, then he drained the remainder of the Scrappersap. 

Erend and Nil sat in semi-comfortable silence for a moment. Then Erend realized that in all their talking about Aloy, he hadn’t asked Nil how _he_ felt about the wedding. “Are _you_ excited?” Erend said. “About the wedding, I mean.” 

Nil scoffed. “No. It’s everything I hate. There’s a reason I never came back to the palace after Sunstone Rock. Petty nobles everywhere… And the incessant _talking_ from your people. I don’t want any of it. It’s all a farce.” Nil sighed and knocked back a fresh tumbler of Scrappersap.

“So why…?” Erend pressed his lips together before the rest of his sentence poured out of his disinhibited mouth. But he couldn’t help but wonder: if Aloy didn’t want the wedding and Nil didn’t want the wedding, why were they even doing this at all?

Nil looked at him in surprise. “To be tied to that woman forever, I’d happily suffer any number of hells.” He looked away from Erend and out over the heads of the crowd, his gaze on the middle distance. “When this is all over, she’ll declare me as hers: the blood-haired demon from the east who bends men and machines alike to her will, choosing _me_ for her husband. Everyone will see it. Nobody will deny her conviction. That makes it all worth it.” 

For once, Erend was speechless. He stared at Nil, who was looking deeply contented as he swirled his tumbler idly. This was a side of Nil that Erend had never seen before, and probably would never have seen if the booze wasn’t flowing so freely. His love for Aloy was so patently obvious that he was practically glowing just from talking about her. In this moment, with his savage Carja face peaceful and relaxed, Nil had never seemed more human.

Before Erend could reply, there was an uproar near the entrance of The Twisted Cog as the doors opened and a new occupant stepped inside. 

“Aloy!”

“Hey Nora girl, come join us for a drink!”

“Or an arm-wrestle. Set down your bow for once!” 

“You’re dressed for the forge, girl. Gonna have an Oseram wedding after all?”

Erend and Nil both turned towards the door, and Erend couldn’t help but smile at how Nil’s face brightened as he caught sight of Aloy, who joked and teased her various Oseram friends as she made her way towards Erend and Nil. 

Finally she reached the bar, and she grinned at Erend and stroked the back of Nil’s neck affectionately in greeting. “How did the bandit hunting go?” she asked. 

“I won,” Nil replied lazily. “Seventeen to nine. The Vanguard Captain is slow.” 

Erend snorted. “Slow but strong. Don’t forget how that one guy’s skull cracked like an egg.”

Nil smirked and nodded with approval. “That was a good one, I’ll admit.”

Aloy rolled her eyes and shook her head. Then she eyed them both curiously. “You two are getting along, then? What are you talking about? What did I miss?”

“Not much,” Erend said. “Your fiancé threatened to kill me, though.”

Aloy and Nil both gave identical shrugs. “Well, that doesn’t surprise anybody,” Aloy drawled, and she sounded so much like Nil for a moment that Erend couldn’t help but laugh. 

Then Nil interjected, “Your best friend here asked about our sex life.”

Erend’s face and ears burned with embarrassment as Aloy slowly turned to look at him. “You did _what?_ ” she asked slowly.

Erend did _not_ like that dangerous voice. He held up his hands; whether to apologize or to defend himself from her wrath, he wasn’t sure. “I didn’t mean to! It was an accident! And he didn’t tell me anything. And I’m drunk!” He glared at Nil and shoved him in the shoulder. “You’re a snitch!”

Nil shoved him back and then cuffed him lightly in the ear. “ _You_ can’t hold your liquor.”

Erend retaliated by cuffing Nil in the jaw. “ _You_ made me drink half of yours!” 

“All right, all right. You’re men, you’re bonding, I get it,” Aloy said loudly. She placed herself between them at the bar and drained the remainder of Erend’s Scrappersap, then gave Nil an exasperated look. “Now if you’re finished waving your dangly bits at each other, can we go?” 

Erend wilted in disappointment. “You’re not staying?” 

Aloy shook her head. “I can’t. I’m filthy, I need a bath. Another time!” she added, with a comforting pat to his shoulder. She pushed away from the bar, and Nil stood from his bar stool as well. 

Then Nil surprised Erend once more: he offered his right arm to Erend in a gesture of farewell, and Nil’s smile, though slightly sarcastic, was undeniably warm. 

Erend smiled back and grasped Nil’s forearm firmly. Then, with a brief nod, Nil followed Aloy out the door and back into the city. 

Erend watched them walk away with a happy feeling in his belly. For the first time as he watched Nil and Aloy together, he felt no trepidation or concern, not even a hint of envy. He just felt… good. _It's probably just the Scrappersap,_ he thought. After all, a haze of liquor could make a fiendish foe into a fast friend in the blink of an eye. 

At that moment, Erend’s Vanguard friend Ulkert sidled over. “So,” he drawled drunkenly. “D’you enjoy your night with the Shadow Carja murderer?” 

Erend frowned at Ulkert. “Hey, c’mon, don’t call him that. He’s just…” Erend thought about it for a second. What was the best way to sum up Aloy’s fiancé? 

He was a killer, but not a mindless one. Born a Carja, but with no real affiliation with them. He was cold, almost heartless a lot of the time, but Erend had never seen stronger evidence of love than in Nil’s words tonight. Nothing that Erend thought he knew about Nil was as simple as it seemed. 

Finally Erend shrugged and slapped his friend on the shoulder. “He’s just… Nil.” He led Ulkert back to their table. “C’mon. Let's drink.”


	7. GAIA Prime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a visit to GAIA Prime, Aloy and Nil chat about subfunctions and Nil's childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Timeline-wise, this goes after [Stormbirds and Stalkers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11730771/chapters/26430822) and before [What’s Love Got To Do With It.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012792)

**Two months after the Battles of HADES…**

Nil clambered up the ladder into Sylens’ workshop and rose to his feet. His silver eyes darted around the room, taking in the stacked Shellwalker crates and the makeshift workbench scattered with the Old Ones’ tools before resting on Aloy’s face. “Remind me again. Why are we here?”

Aloy smiled and poked him playfully in the abs. “I need to get GAIA up and running. This is where her… um, her core is located. And this is where the Alphas lived before Zero Day.” _Before that scum-sucking slagheap Ted Faro killed them,_ she added privately. “There has to be more information in this place about getting GAIA up and running. I’m hoping to find some more datapoints, some instructions maybe… some logs…” 

“And when you fix it? What will happen then?” 

Aloy smiled at Nil again. He’d said _when_ she fixed it, not _if_. His faith in her abilities might be misplaced, especially without Sylens’ help, but she appreciated it all the same. Patiently she explained, “GAIA runs a terraforming system, remember? She’ll help restore the world to life.” 

“But the world _is_ alive,” Nil reasoned. “We’re here. We’re alive.” 

“ _We_ are,” Aloy replied. “But what about the rest of the world? We’re just… one small piece.” She thought of Elisabet’s globe, the precious trinket that sat in her smallest pouch alongside Rost’s charm and her favourite metal flower from Nil. The tiny globe hinted at huge, unexplored parts of the world that Aloy could only imagine. “Maybe the Carja just think the Forbidden West is an abomination because it’s not properly terraformed yet. GAIA could fix that.” 

She tapped her Focus and began scanning Sylens’ workshop for any ancient devices she may have missed, and continued talking distractedly to Nil while she searched. “GAIA might also be able to take back control of the other subfunctions.”

“Other subfunctions... like that HADES demon?” Nil asked. He’d seated himself on an empty Shellwalker crate and was idly sharpening his knife while Aloy scanned the room. 

“Exactly,” Aloy replied. She tapped her Focus off and sighed; it wasn’t picking up anything new, so it seemed like an old-fashioned manual search was in order. “Can you look for any papers, tomes, scrolls - anything with glyphs?” she asked Nil. “If you find anything, just put it on the workbench.” 

Nil immediately sheathed his knife and ambled over to the corner nearest the entrance to the workshop, then started poking around in the debris and dust. Aloy walked over to the corner opposite him and began searching as well while she talked. “One of the other subfunctions was called ARTEMIS. It was in charge of animal life. But there are only a few kinds of animals in our world. There are supposed to be more. If GAIA can find ARTEMIS, or… or if she can tell _me_ how to find ARTEMIS, then we could have more different animals and bugs and birds.” 

A squiggle of excitement swam through Aloy’s chest at this thought, and she looked over at Nil with a grin. “The machines are all based on animals that existed in the Old Ones’ time. Or even long before that. Can you imagine animals that look like the machines?”

Nil raised one eyebrow. “So what you’re saying is you _want_ to bring back animals that look like Thunderjaws and Rockbreakers and Stormbirds.” 

Aloy wilted slightly with exasperation. “Well, _no_. Not all the machines, obviously. GAIA would know which ones make sense to bring back.” 

But Nil continued to smirk at her. “Really, Suntress, I know you like to seek your thrills, but this is going too far. If it’s the satisfaction of a fresh kill that you want, you know there are always bandits… and _they_ don’t have enormous metal claws or teeth.” 

Aloy rolled her eyes and strode over to Nil to shove him playfully. He blocked her shove, then grabbed her around the waist. After a brief, childish scuffle that ended with Aloy jumping on Nil’s back and biting his ear, they returned to their searching.

After a few minutes of searching in silence, Nil spoke. “So if those Cauldrons make their machines in the shape of animals… I wonder why they never made machines in the shape of humans.” 

A chill ran down Aloy’s back as she remembered the derelict servitor skeletons in Eleuthia-9. She looked over at Nil; he was still scouting around in a Shellwalker crate, but his face was lit with the bestial grin she associated with bandit camps. “You said the machines originally had a purpose,” he mused. “I wonder what purpose a human-shaped machine would have.” 

Finally Nil looked up at her, still grinning. “If there were human-shaped machines to hunt, maybe I’d finally join the Hunter’s Lodge.” His silver eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“You’re disgusting,” Aloy replied automatically with a small smile. “Good luck finding a hawk who’d sponsor you.” 

“You mean you wouldn’t sponsor me? You wound me,” he joked. Then his smile faded as he examined her face. “Suntress, what’s wrong?”

Aloy took a deep breath. “There were human-shaped machines,” she admitted. “A long time ago. They were called servitors. They… they raised the first generations of humans who were born in the Cradles. Like in All-Mother… where I was born.”

Nil frowned slightly as he stepped closer to her. “Is that… bad?” he asked slowly. 

Aloy swallowed hard. “Well, it didn’t work out the way they’d planned. The servitors were meant to be like… simple caretakers. Like Carja nannies, but much simpler,” she explained. “They were supposed to switch between specific jobs or roles. One that disciplined the children, and one that nurtured them or… or healed them. But the Alpha in charge of the servitors, he didn’t have time to make the role-switching happen properly. And the servitors were too… simple to deal with the problems with the Cradle facility. The purge of APOLLO…” 

Aloy paused and swallowed again as she remembered the holovids she’d witnessed from scanning the servitor skeletons in All-Mother: the children’s screams of frustration and rage. The first generation of teenagers nursing their bruises after a servitor subdued their rage with too much force. 

She looked up at Nil. “The first Cradle-born humans, they were stuck inside the Cradles until they were my age. Or maybe even your age, I'm not sure. They couldn’t get out. They were angry, so they lashed out at the servitors. But the servitors were too simple to understand. They... lashed back.” 

To her surprise, Nil nodded easily. “That makes sense.”

Aloy frowned at him. “What does? The children being angry, or the servitors?” 

“Both,” Nil replied casually. He looked around the dingy workshop impassively. “To be stuck in a place like this… being trapped in a luxurious palace is bad enough. At least there was fresh air. Of course they got angry.” 

He looked back down at Aloy. “But real people raise their children the same way as these servitors you speak of. Punish and heal. Was Rost not the same?” 

Aloy was speechless. Suddenly she felt like her chest was being squeezed by a giant fist. The implication in Nil’s words, in his casual manner…

Avad had told her that Nil’s mother had died when he was young, and that the Carja princes been raised primarily by nursemaids and nannies. But somehow Aloy had never thought much about what it must have been like to have Jiran as a father. And the Mad King had been known for his violence… 

Suddenly Aloy was furious. “Did he punish you? Jiran?” She knew the Mad King was dead, but in this moment, imagining a little Nil being struck by a full-grown adult, she wanted to kill the Mad King herself. She could barely breathe around her sudden rage. “Did he hit you?”

Nil gazed at her in surprise, as though her question was an obvious one. “Yes, on occasion. But he mainly punished with words. Or tried to, at least.” Nil smiled slowly at her. “But words roll off my back like blood from armour, Suntress. You know this. And by the time I was twelve, the feeble strikes of the Mad King rolled off my back as well. It’s hard to hit a child who is stronger than you.” His smile became savage with memory. 

“You… you hit him back?” Aloy asked weakly. Some of the tension left her shoulders at Nil’s apparent lack of distress, but she still felt uneasy at the scenario he was painting. 

Nil shrugged. “Of course I hit him back.” He raised one eyebrow, and his face still held a look like she was being slightly obtuse. “Anyone who strikes me with intent to harm gets struck back.” He wandered back to the corner and pried the lid off of another Shellwalker crate. 

Aloy wrapped her arms around herself as she watched him pick through the crate. He looked totally at ease, as though nothing he’d just told her was outside of normal. 

Slowly she walked to his side and sat down with her back to the crate that he was looting. He looked at her in surprise. “You’re not searching anymore?” he asked.

“Not right now,” she said quietly. “Nil… what about Avad and Kadaman? Did… did Jiran punish them too?” 

“Yes,” Nil said as he pulled a box of bolts out of the crate. Carelessly he plonked the box on the floor before rifling around in the crate again. “Jiran thought Avad to be weak. And he thought Kadaman was weak for protecting Avad. But it all worked out in the end. Avad got his revenge.” He smirked at Aloy, as though this was an excellent joke. “Killing the Mad King must have been satisfying, in its own way. I should ask him about it sometime.” 

A lump of distress was swelling in Aloy’s throat at Nil’s words. Her chest ached at the thought of Avad and the unknown Kadaman as children cowering from their father. She watched Nil’s face carefully, but there was no hint of upset or anger in his voice or his expression. He looked... absolutely fine.

A sudden burn of tears pressed at the back of her eyes, and casually she turned her face away from Nil in the pretense of looking outside so he wouldn’t see. The last thing Aloy wanted to do was make Nil feel bad or abnormal by telling him that it wasn’t typical - or _okay_ \- for parents to regularly hit or yell at their children. 

She stared vacantly out at the blowing snow beyond the cliff face, each flake underlit by the eerie orange-pink of late afternoon sun, but her mind was reeling with how casually Nil could speak of this… abuse. 

“Suntress. Look at me.” 

Aloy surreptitiously wiped her eyes before turning to look at Nil. His silver gaze was serious on her face. “Jiran was a small part of the picture. Inconsequential, even. Avad and Kadaman were mostly raised by the nursemaids, and they were very… nurturing.” A slight sneer lifted his lips as he said this. “They saw more of the Blameless Marad than they did the Mad King.” He tucked a braid behind her ear. “Don't be sad for Avad. Things worked out for him in the end.” 

She knew Nil only meant to reassure her, but his words only made her sadder. He was talking about the princes’ childhood as though he hadn't been a part of it. “What about you?” she blurted before she could stop herself. “Who looked after you?” 

Nil looked at her as though her question was a complete non-sequitur. “Me? I took care of myself.” He gave a sudden irritable shrug, as though he was dislodging a pest. “I didn’t need the clucking and fussing of nannies.” Then he chucked her chin gently before turning back to the Shellwalker crate. “Come now, Suntress, your logs and tomes won’t find themselves.” 

Slowly Aloy rose to her knees and began searching through the same crate as Nil, handing him scrap and bits of broken plastic as she searched for papers or scrolls. But her throat was still aching with sadness for the man at her side. Aloy had always thought her childhood to be hard, but at least she’d had Rost’s unconditional love and support. Nil had been… alone. Truly alone, probably for as long as he could remember, until he’d met her, whether this bothered him or not.

On impulse, Aloy dropped the coil of wire in her hand and wrapped her arms around Nil’s neck tightly. Maybe he hadn’t wanted the care of nannies or nursemaids, but Aloy suddenly wanted to smother with him all the affection she had to give. 

“Hey. What’s this?” Nil said, but he turned in her embrace to wrap his arms around her waist. 

Aloy didn’t answer; she couldn’t speak around the pressure at the back of her throat. She pressed her face tightly against his neck and took a deep, shaky breath, inhaling his scent of warmth and orange-oil in the process.

Nil smoothed one hand soothingly along her back. “It’s all right, Suntress. There’s nothing to be sad about,” he murmured in her ear. “Don’t occupy your mind with useless sadness. It’s as helpful as a dead corpse tied to the back of a Strider. Tell me more about this GAIA instead.”

Aloy sobbed out a tiny laugh. Why was it that Nil always ended up comforting her when he was the one who deserved the comfort? Nevertheless, she wiped her face on his shoulder and pulled back to look at him. “You want to hear more about GAIA?” she asked shakily. 

Nil nodded. “Sure.” 

Aloy laughed again and kissed him on the cheek. She knew he wasn’t that interested in GAIA. He just wanted to make her feel better. But he was such a good listener… 

Aloy finally released Nil from her death-grip of a hug and turned back to the crate. “All right. Well, if GAIA doesn’t get up and running, then the HEPHAESTUS subfunction, the one that controls the Cauldrons, it’ll be uncontrolled and the Derangement will continue.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Nil asked. He lifted a decrepit paper manual from the crate and stood to place it on the table.

Aloy stared at him in sudden surprise. “What? Why do you think I’d want the Derangement to continue?” 

“Well, not just you. All the machine hunters. You love your metal hunt. If the Derangement stopped, the thrill of sparks and screeching steel would disappear.” 

Aloy opened her mouth to argue, but Nil wasn’t finished. “The Hunter’s Lodge is founded on the aggression of the machines,” he reasoned. He leaned back against the table. “I wonder what would happen if the Lodge no longer had ferocious machines to hunt.” Then he smiled viciously at Aloy. “Maybe they’d turn their hunting urges to a bloodier type of prey. I’d have to start defending my bandit-killing claim.”

“That’s not the point,” Aloy argued. “The machines are too dangerous. The ones that are made just for war, like the Stalkers and Thunderjaws? They can’t continue. The Cauldrons can’t keep making them.” 

“But the Carja and Oseram farm a lot of resources from those felled machines,” Nil replied mildly. “The Banuk as well. Even the Nora use machine parts for their armour. Without machines, what would they all do? Go into the Cauldrons directly to get resources?” He smirked again. “You’re the only one who can go in the Cauldrons. You’d have to become the Keeper of the Cauldrons: Doorkeeper into the Old Ones’ machine factories. I bet you’d love that.” He snickered.

Aloy was stunned into silence. She hadn’t really thought of the longer-ranging consequences of stopping the Derangement, or how intrinsically it had become a part of every tribe’s culture. She stared at Nil in wonder. How the hell had _he_ thought of all that? 

“I…” Aloy wasn’t really sure what to say. “Well, the war machines… They’re still too dangerous for the average person. Everyone isn’t a skilled machine hunter. That can’t be allowed to go on just for the sake of traditions. But the resources though… That’s a fair point.” She was pensive for a long moment.Then she smiled slowly at Nil. “When did _you_ get so smart?” 

Nil grinned back and rejoined her on the floor by the crate. “What, you didn’t think I’m smart? You’re only with me for my body? You wound me again,” he purred. 

Aloy laughed and shoved his shoulder playfully. “Seriously though. You’re being so logical. It’s almost like talking to Sylens or something.”

Nil shrugged. “Well, there’s something to be said for his unsentimental approach.”

Aloy stared at him in disbelief. “You… you agree with him? How is that possible? His whole ‘unsentimental’ thing would have left you to die in the Sun Ring!”

Nil tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “True. But he had one goal, and everything he did was to meet that goal. There’s something to be said for that, I think.”

Aloy understood immediately. It wasn’t Sylens’ unsentimental approach that Nil agreed with; it was Sylens’ single-mindedness. She pointed this out to him. “Besides, there’s no way you’re unsentimental. You’re the most emotionally-driven person I know.”

Nil gave her an affronted look. “I am not.”

“You are!” she laughed. “Everything you do is either because you like something or hate something.” 

Nil frowned and was quiet for a long time. Finally he shrugged grudgingly. “Maybe. I guess you’re right.” He turned to look at her. “Is that a problem?” 

With a pang of tenderness, Aloy squeezed his hand. “No,” she said firmly. “It’s who you are. It’s fine.” She leaned into his shoulder and tucked her head under his chin, and they rested quietly for a while.

As she enjoyed the gentle in-and-out of Nil’s breathing, Aloy reflected on herself and Nil. Despite all the unusual parallels between them, this was one big difference: Nil did whatever he wanted whenever he felt like it, whereas Aloy was finding herself increasingly putting aside her own needs in order to help other people fulfill theirs, especially after the Battle of HADES. In fact, this was why it had taken her so long to return to GAIA Prime: she and Nil had been travelling around doing favours and odd jobs for months. 

Despite what she’d just said to Nil, Aloy couldn’t help but wonder if one mode of being was better than the other. Was it a problem for Nil to only do what he wanted all the time? All he seemed to want right now was be with her, and Aloy was happy with that, but… what if…? 

Nil’s voice filtered into her ear, interrupting her thoughts. “Well. Do you know what I want to do now?” 

Aloy bit back a laugh. She could tell exactly what he was thinking from the tone of his voice. His intent was made obvious when he turned towards her and crowded her back against the Shellwalker crate her with his body, a suggestive smile on his face. 

She grinned. “No. I have no idea,” she replied with mock innocence. “What do you want to do? Search more crates?”

Nil brushed his lips against her ear. “Fuck the crates,” he whispered. He slid his hand up to cradle her neck. “I have a better idea.” And he proceeded to elaborate on his idea in delicious detail.

Aloy luxuriously slid her hands over the planes of Nil’s chest as he whispered his plans in her ear. There might be things that needed to be done - documents to scan, flashing terminals to try and interpret - but right now, with Nil’s warm hands on her body, Aloy would happily put those aside to fulfill a different sort of need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this oneshot is not really a self-contained "scene" or action shot like the other ones, and I hope it wasn't boring or unfocused. In all honesty, I wrote this oneshot because I was thinking about GAIA and the subfunctions and I felt like making Aloy and Nil think about them too. The stuff about Nil's childhood really snuck in there without being planned at all, but since some of you lovely readers indicated you wanted to know more, I guess it works out!
> 
> Let me know what you think. ALSO, I have an idea for a pure-smut, no-plot oneshot... would anyone be interested in that? Haven't done that yet for these two.


	8. Tribal Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nil butts heads with Sona during a bandit hunt in the Sacred Lands, and Varl tries desperately to keep the peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to flight_feather, who suggested that an interaction between Nil and Sona would be interesting to read! 
> 
> I've also been thinking recently about Varl, that sweet Nora cinnamon roll. He's never gotten much screen time in my fics, so this piece is from his POV.
> 
> Timeline-wise, this takes place after Shadow of the Stormbird.

“You’re not like other Nora.”

When Varl first said these words to Aloy, he didn’t realize just how true they were. Oh, he definitely knew she was different; he knew she was an outcast since birth, and he knew the rumours that had been spoken of her since he was a child: that she was cursed, that her father was a Metal Devil. He knew she’d survived the Proving massacre when few other young braves had, including his sister. 

But it wasn’t until he watched Aloy’s face as she stared at the derelict towers of the Metal World that he realized quite how different she was. When Varl was a child, he’d only ever regarded these ruins with distrust; they were relics of a cursed and heathen people, after all. As Varl got older, the ruins largely faded into the background to become just another feature of the environment worthy of caution and respect, like an avalanche-prone mountain, or a thin-iced lake.

But the look on Aloy’s face as she beheld the Ancient Ones’ ruins…

Her face bloomed from a stern frown into an open expression of curiosity and admiration. Wistfulness, even. Varl wondered if he had ever seen such a fervent look of curiosity on anyone’s face before. No one else’s face had ever made him feel this way before: like he was seeing the world through a different lens. Like maybe there was more to the Sacred Lands than what he saw every day. 

Aloy turned to him with one raised eyebrow. “That’s what they tell me,” she replied dryly. But despite her jocular tone, there was a faint bitterness there, and Varl felt a pang of guilt that maybe he’d made her feel that way. 

But there was no time to dwell on it; the War-Chief’s voice commanded their attention and their arrows, and soon the Nora braves were on their way to Devil’s Grief, with only one thought on their minds: revenge.

****************

After the killers were dispatched at Devil’s Grief, Aloy disappeared from the Sacred Lands with barely a goodbye. Varl thought of her every day, wondering what kinds of deeds she was getting up to during her Seeker’s journey. Intriguing bits of information would filter back to Mother’s Crown from the outlanders visiting Hunter’s Gathering: stories of a red-haired Nora who rescued innocent travellers from entire herds of Tramplers and who took down machines the size of mountains with her bare hands; tales of a savage girl who cleared entire bandit camps with only a bow and a silent partner; talk of a young, fierce huntress who was called upon to assist the Radiant Sun-King himself. 

As the months went by and the wisps of stories continued to filter into Nora land, Varl’s initial strong impression of Aloy expanded and transformed, taking on a life of its own. Varl knew that the All-Mother protected the Nora, but it wasn’t until he heard these stories that he realized just how thoroughly the Seeker’s blessing could protect. Varl didn’t doubt any of the deeds that were spoken of Aloy. She really was the Chosen of the Nora. 

Months passed before Varl saw Aloy again, and just like in a Nora folk tale, she came to them right when the tribe’s faith was being tested the most: minions of the Metal Devil had rampaged across the Sacred Lands, and it seemed like all might be lost. When Aloy appeared among them, laden with foreign weapons but dressed in Nora garb, it was like seeing the Goddess herself. Aloy seemed to stand taller and to hold herself with more ferocious confidence than she’d had when she first left the Sacred Lands. But did she truly stand taller, or was it just Varl’s imagination? 

When Aloy issued her call to arms for able-bodied Nora to join her in Meridian, Varl didn’t hesitate. The All-Mother herself had spoken to Aloy, was speaking _through_ Aloy, and who was Varl to deny the call of a goddess? 

But more than that, who was he to deny the call of the girl - the woman - who bore the sacred purpose of the All-Mother with such humility? Even after everything she’d done to help the Nora, Aloy acted like she was nothing more than another brave. Her modesty and down-to-earth nature were even more compelling than her status as the Anointed… and this was something that Varl couldn’t resist. 

************

_You’re not like other Nora._

Varl’s own words rang in his ears as he travelled through the foreign and forbidden Sundom with the War-Chief and their companions. As soon as they crossed into Carja territory, the stories of Aloy’s deeds seemed to explode like a Grazer’s blaze canister; everyone that Varl’s group encountered seemed to know Aloy. Oseram merchants spoke of the flame-haired huntress who eliminated packs of Glinthawks with a single quiver of fire arrows. Carja nobles dressed in feathers spoke of the savage girl who’d earned the gilded weapons of the notorious Hunter’s Lodge. 

And _everyone_ spoke of the Carja murderer who shadowed her every step as though his only purpose was to serve her. 

These stories were the first that Varl doubted. When he first heard of Aloy’s shadow partner, he’d felt a distinct punch to the gut, like something inside of him had been deflated. But the stories continued, and the tales he heard were too consistent to not be true. As crazy as it seemed, the seed of truth in the multitude of outlanders’ tales was confirmed again and again: that the Nora’s Anointed was inseparable from an infamous Shadow Carja ex-prisoner who’d been convicted of war crimes during the Red Raids. 

Varl knew it, but some small, petty part of his mind didn’t believe it, or perhaps didn’t want to believe. It wasn’t until the Battle of the Metal Devil was over, and he and the Vanguard Captain Erend returned to the village, that Varl saw the proof with his own two eyes: Aloy clasped in the burnt and bloodied arms of a dark-haired Carja warrior, locked in an embrace that was more passionate than Varl had ever seen… more passion, certainly, than Varl had ever felt. 

At that moment, Erend slapped Varl companionably on the back, and Varl jolted with surprise and some embarrassment, but the Vanguardsman’s face was sympathetic. “I know,” he said in a gentle voice. “Come on. Let’s go celebrate. One of the drinks cellars in the palace has gotta be intact.”

********************

Two years had passed since the Battle of the Metal Devil, and Varl had become accustomed to seeing Aloy travel in and out of the Sacred Lands with Nil looming over her shoulder like a faithful shadow. But today was the first time Varl had spent any time in Nil’s presence without Aloy. 

Aloy was inside All-Mother Mountain communing with the Goddess. She and Nil had gone inside the mountain together on several occasions when visiting the Sacred Lands, but this time, Varl and his mother happened to encounter them at Mother’s Watch before they went inside. 

“Aloy,” Sona said with a brusque nod. “Your return is timely. Come with us. We’re taking a group of youth to Devil’s Grief to oust some trespassers.” She turned her stern gaze to Nil. “People from your Sundom, come to take advantage of the richness of our lands. Their presence will not be tolerated here.” 

Nil perked up, immune to the subtle slur implied by Sona’s words. “Bandits?” he asked. 

Varl nodded confirmation. “They’re taking advantage of the ruins for shelter. It’ll be a good exercise for our new warriors-” 

“They’re not warriors yet,” Sona interrupted roughly. “They’re barely more than children with unblooded spears. This is their first hunt.” She looked at Aloy again. “Come with us,” she repeated. 

Aloy grimaced in apology. “I’m sorry, Sona, but I have to collect some items from All-Mother. It’s… her will.” She turned to Nil. “Do you want to go with Sona and Varl? I’ll join you there, or in Mother’s Heart if, uh, speaking to the Goddess takes longer than usual.” 

Nil tilted his head to the side and regarded Sona and Varl impassively. Aloy slid her hand coaxingly along his forearm. “You can use your Focus to help them,” Aloy told him. “It’ll give them an advantage, especially for the less experienced hunters.”

At Aloy’s words, Varl looked at Nil’s right ear, and his mouth dropped open in surprise. Nil had a Focus, just like Aloy’s! But Varl thought that the Focus was how the All-Mother communicated with Aloy…? 

Nil sighed. “The Focus takes the challenge away, Suntress. Where’s the fun when all your prey is flagged already, like meat at the market?” 

Aloy shook her head with an amused smirk. “Fine, don’t use it. But you should go with them. It’ll be more interesting for you than poking around in… I mean, communing with All-Mother.”

Nil smirked at her, then shrugged casually. “All right.” 

Varl was struck by yet another jolt of surprise at his agreement. Varl had literally never seen Nil without Aloy by his side. 

“Fine. Let’s go,” Sona said impatiently. “The heathens won’t evict themselves from our lands.” She strode away towards the path out of Mother’s Watch. 

Varl hung back politely to wait for Nil. Surreptitiously he watched as Aloy stood on tiptoe and kissed Nil on the lips, then murmured something to him that sounded suspiciously like “do what Sona tells you”.

Varl covered his smirk with one hand as Nil gave Aloy a deeply skeptical look. Nil then tucked one of Aloy’s braids behind her ear, and they parted ways, with Nil falling into step beside Varl. 

And so it was that Varl, Sona, and Nil were training a group of young Nora in stealth hunting.

Well, sort of. 

When Sona and Nil weren’t arguing. 

Varl had hoped this little expedition would give him a chance to get to know more about Nil. Varl no longer had a crush on Aloy, but he was still unashamedly in awe of her, and passionately curious about the mysterious Carja who, despite his notorious past, had managed to win the Anointed’s affection and trust. Unfortunately, Varl did not get a chance to ask Nil any questions before the War-Chief started in on him.

As they headed up the path towards Devil’s Grief, Sona glanced at the Focus over Nil’s right ear with mistrust. “I’m surprised the Goddess saw fit to award _you_ with one of those… devices from the depths of her womb.”

“Aloy gave it to me,” Nil corrected bluntly. 

“From the All-Mother’s womb,” Sona insisted. “An outlander adorned with a piece of our Sacred Lands…” Sona shook her head with open disapproval. “Still, Aloy’s judgment has never been wrong. I suppose I’ll trust her in this.” 

Nil shrugged as he loped alongside Sona, matching her brisk stride with ease. “I rarely use it. It distracts me during the hunt. I can’t savour the perfume of terror in the air if my eyes are filled with lights.” 

Varl was familiar with Nil’s sarcasm, but his belly jolted with shock at this sacrilegious comment. Nil would spurn the gift of the All-Mother so openly, even though she’d deemed him worthy? And lights… what did he mean by that? Is that what the Focus did: showed Aloy and Nil some kind of special light of the All-Mother?

But Nil wasn’t finished. “It comes in handy when she’s tinkering with her machines, though. I read while she’s working.” He smirked. “There’s a Carja academic who writes amusing things about the other tribes. It’s a decent way to occupy the mind when there’s no prey to occupy my hands.”

Varl stared at him eagerly. “What do you mean, you’ll read? How…?” He trailed off; he wasn’t even sure how to phrase his question. He felt overwhelmed by how little he knew about the private world that Aloy and Nil shared through their Focuses... and suddenly he was ashamed that he had never thought to ask Aloy what using the Focus was like. After all, it was one of the most noticeable things that set her apart from the other Nora. And even though she was the Anointed, Varl considered her one of his closest friends. Why hadn't he ever asked her about it before?

Nil frowned at Varl in confusion for a moment, then his face cleared. “Oh, that’s right. The Nora don’t read. Well, the Focus scans tomes and scrolls, and then I have a copy I can access whenever I want.” Nil tapped his Focus, and then his gaze became unfocused. He swiped his fingers casually through the air even though nothing was there, and glanced at Varl with one raised eyebrow. “It’s like an archive. I can-”

“Stop this,” Sona barked. She gave Varl a severe look. “This knowledge is not for us. It’s not your place to ask.” She turned her glare to Nil. “And _you_ should not be sharing the All-Mother’s mysteries so openly. If she wished for all the Nora to have those… devices, to know the glyphs, she would make it plain. And she has not. Now stop this idle talk and let’s go. We are close to our goal.” 

Nil stopped walking and folded his arms. He tilted his chin up and stared at Sona, unimpressed by her commanding tone. “And what if I told you that your precious mountain is full of-” 

“Nil,” Varl interrupted in a low tone. Nobody ever won an argument with the War-Chief. “I would… stop while you’re ahead. This won’t end well for you.” 

Nil snorted, and if possible, he puffed himself up to an even taller posture. “But you all spurn the glyphs just for the sake of tradition. It’s illogical. I’ve read the glyphs all my life. It’s the best way to learn.” He continued to stare in challenge at the War-Chief. “I’m sure Aloy would agree.”

Sona narrowed her eyes. “The passing of knowledge from mother to child is sacred. It’s not a task to be relegated to scraps of paper,” she said. Varl swallowed nervously; his mother’s voice was soft, controlled, and absolutely dripping with condescension. “We Nora _show_ our children how to live. We tell stories and sing hunting songs to our children until they know them by heart. We _don’t_ sit our children idly in the corner with tomes in their laps, like the Carja.” Her eyes slid disparagingly over Nil’s silk-and-metal-clad form. “Aloy would agree with this. She’s a testament to Rost’s faithful instruction.”

Nil’s face was flat and blank as a sheet of fresh snow, but his pale grey eyes were as narrow as Sona’s. “Aloy knows things you'll never understand thanks to this device, and the glyphs it helped her learn. I dare you to ask her if she’d choose your tribal ways over her Focus.” His words were thick with scorn.

Sona swelled with indignation at his disrespect, but before she could speak, Varl interrupted. “I see the towers,” he blurted desperately. He didn’t think he’d felt this stressed since he’d had to take down his first corrupted Sawtooth. “We’re close. We should get ready to hide. This area is known for Scrappers and Sawtooths alike.” 

Varl watched anxiously as his mother clenched her jaw. Then finally she spoke, her eyes still on Nil’s unflinching face. “No more talk. Keep your mouth shut. Our new hunters must practice their stalking in silence.”

Nil stared hard at her, then nodded his head once.

Sona pursed her lips, then walked away to speak to the small group of hunters-in-training. Varl grimaced apologetically at Nil. “I apologize. I know we’re not… what you’re used to. I mean, Aloy is Nora, and you’re used to her, but she’s different from most of us. She-”

“Don’t apologize,” Nil grunted. “Your War-Chief can have her opinions. Even if they’re wrong. It makes no difference to me.” 

Varl bit the inside of his cheek uncertainly; he wasn’t sure how to respond. After all, he’d been raised in the Nora tradition, instructed by his mother exactly as she’d described, and he didn’t feel as though he’d missed out on anything. And yet, this world of tomes and scrolls, of archives and mysterious knowledge that Nil spoke of… 

When Aloy had first invited Varl to see the inside of All-Mother two years ago, he’d been too overwhelmed to accept her offer. But now, he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a mistake.

Varl and Nil finally set off after Sona and the other youth. “I can see why Aloy likes her,” Nil murmured, and Varl gave him a questioning look. Nil smirked. “The War-Chief. They’re… alike. In some ways.”

Varl smiled. “Yes, they are. Nora women are a force to be reckoned with.” 

But Nil shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s not tribal at all. It’s something else.” And he fell silent. 

Varl looked at him curiously, but didn’t prod any further; they were almost caught up to Sona and the others, who were crouched in a large patch of tall grass. Sona was reminding them how to sneak through the grass and how to draw their weapons with as little movement as possible. 

Sona stood as Varl and Nil approached. She ignored them and spoke to the young Nora. “Now take down those two Scrappers.” She pointed to two machines which were grinding peacefully at the remains of a Watcher about a hundred paces away. “You have each shown the ability to destroy a Watcher without help. This task is the next step, and you must work as a team. But be warned: you are on your own. Varl and I will not help you with this. Now go.” She jerked her chin towards the Scrappers, and the group of young hunters snuck off towards the machines.

Sona then turned to Nil with her arms folded and a stern frown on her face. “Now. When will you and Aloy be having children?”

Nil recoiled so suddenly that Varl would have laughed if he wasn’t utterly mortified. He knew Aloy well enough to know she’d be furious if she knew about this line of questioning. “Mother,” he pleaded. 

But Sona ignored him, her eyes on Nil as she waited for his reply. Nil sneered. “We aren’t.”

Varl gaped at him, distracted from his embarrassment by shock. Aloy and Nil weren’t going to have children?

Sona was equally horrified. Her eyes widened. “You would disrespect Aloy by refusing to give her a child in her image?” 

Nil’s face crumpled as though he had a mouthful of salvebrush berries. “Disrespect?” he spat. “Planting a parasite inside of her would be the ultimate disrespect. She has better things to do than look after a squalling baby.” 

Sona swelled anew with anger. “How _dare_ you say such a thing?” she demanded. “A child is the ultimate blessing. The ultimate proof of a woman’s strength. You would deny this of a woman you profess to love?”

Nil shook his head; to Varl’s surprise and trepidation, a smirk was creeping across his face. “Children aren’t a blessing. They’re a burden. A tripwire tied around the ankles that can’t be undone. They get in the way.” 

“Not if they’re raised correctly,” Sona retorted, and she surprised Varl by giving him a rare look of pride before returning her stern gaze to Nil. “Aloy would make a fine mother, especially not having had one of her own. She’ll fully appreciate of the sacred task of motherhood. She _deserves_ a child to carry on her strength, to prove her position within our tribe. The Nora need more like her. And you, a heathen outlander, would deny her this?”

“Why are you smiling?” Varl blurted suddenly to Nil. He couldn’t tear his eyes from Nil’s face; the Carja warrior was grinning unflinchingly at Sona, but there was something terrifyingly sharp and predatory about his expression. 

“I’m imagining the look on Aloy’s face when she hears about this,” he replied smoothly. “This may be the last you see of us for a _very_ long time.” 

Varl wilted with dismay at this implicit threat. He turned to his mother with the most businesslike expression he could muster. “War-Chief, shall we continue towards the bandit camp? Nil can use his Focus to examine the area.” 

“Don’t think to distract me, Varl. This is a serious slur on Aloy’s honour,” Sona snapped. Then she sighed. “But yes. We should return our thoughts to the trespassers. For now.” She gave Nil a filthy look, then pointedly turned away from him to watch the young Nora who were trotting back towards them, their pouches laden with resources from the two eliminated Scrappers. 

Sona used a series of hand gestures to instruct the youth forward, and the whole group slid towards the ruins where the bandits were camped. Once they were within shouting distance of the camp, Sona turned to Nil and pointed to her right ear. 

Nil gave a tiny sigh that only Varl could hear, then tapped his Focus. His eyes darted around the ruins, then he tapped the Focus again and turned to Sona and Varl. “Fifteen,” he murmured. Varl nodded, then started to slip away to circle the camp and take position on the opposite side as he usually would, but Nil surprised him by speaking again. “I’ll take point. You two can snipe.” He started to slide towards the nearest bandit. 

“Stop,” Sona hissed. Nil slowly turned to look at her with a dangerous scowl. “What?”

“The young hunters must do this. That’s why we’re here,” Sona growled. 

Nil’s shoulders slumped visibly, even despite his crouched position in the grass. “I thought we were demonstrating for them.” 

“No,” Sona replied. “This is their hunt. It is their first time being bloodied.” 

“How fortunate for them,” Nil interjected. Varl shot him a quick glance of bemusement; he sounded oddly resentful.

Sona glared fiercely at him. “Don’t you dare be glib. This is a grave moment.” 

“Graves won’t be necessary. Just leave the bodies. They’ll be a festive touch of red for these green lands of yours.” Nil smirked, then gave Sona a chiding look. “It’s only fifteen bandits. It’s hardly a challenge. I could kill all of them on my own.”

“It’s not about the number,” Varl explained quietly. “It’s about making that leap to taking a human life. It’s not easy.”

Nil looked at him like he was crazy, then smiled. “Of course it is. It’s easy _and_ fun. I could do this half-addled with Scrappersap.” 

Goosebumps suddenly rippled across the back of Varl’s neck as Nil smiled at him with those eerie metallic eyes, and Varl realized with a chill that Nil wasn’t joking. 

Varl was stunned anew when his mother slowly stood from the grass, despite the nearby bandit threat. Nil stood as well, but somehow Sona still managed to stare down at him, even though he was half a head taller than her. Varl gazed up at both of them, a fresh wave of anxiety washing over him as two of the most dangerous people he’d ever known faced each other like a pair of angry Ravagers. 

“Nora hunters are a team,” The War-Chief said slowly and carefully, her every word dripping with commanding authority. “This is not the Sun Ring. There is no glory here, and this is not a game. We work together as a group.” She took a small step closer to Nil, and Varl cringed internally; Sona’s aggressive posture was enough to intimidate any Nora in the entire tribe. 

She stared at Nil, her eyes sparking with enough anger to light a blazefire. “This is the Nora way. If you won’t abide by this, _Carja_ , you can leave the Sacred Lands with the rest of these... outlanders.” She nodded her head towards the bandit camp without breaking her gaze from Nil’s face. 

Nil grinned slowly at Sona, and Varl bit his tongue in anxiety as he watched Nil’s thumb drift slowly towards his knife. “That sounds almost like a threat,” he purred. 

Finally Varl stood, purposely placing himself between his mother and Nil. He couldn’t take the horrible heavy threat of violence that was filling the air like the weight before a thunderstorm. “Aloy followed these hunting strategies with us, back before she left the Sacred Lands,” Varl said to Nil in the calmest tone he could manage. “She worked with us to take out those Eclipse killers, just the way the War-Chief says. I know if Aloy was here now, she would agree with the War-Chief. She would want to work together too.” He couldn’t help but give Nil a pleading grimace as he spoke. 

Nil’s face was frozen in a blank mask, and he was completely, utterly still. For a horrible moment, as loathe as he was to admit it, Varl was scared of Nil.

Then Nil heaved a huge sigh and sat in the grass. “Fine,” he said bad-temperedly. “Follow your Nora strategy. I’ll just sit here.” 

Varl slowly released the breath he was holding and glanced at his mother. Her lip was curled in an angry sneer, but at Nil’s concession, she lifted her chin, then crouched again. She turned to the group of young Nora, who were staring wide-eyed from the grass, and signalled for them to spread out around the camp. 

Varl followed suit, sliding carefully around to the opposite side of the camp as planned. His hands were trembling slightly from stress. _That was a close call. Way too close,_ he thought to himself. He wasn’t exactly sure why Nil had given in so suddenly. Varl couldn’t help but wonder if his mother really would have attacked the Anointed’s Sacred Companion. 

He also couldn’t help but wonder who would have won.

 _Don’t think about it,_ he told himself firmly as he slipped into position and waited for Sona’s signal to attack. Such things didn't bear thinking about. 

Less than a minute later, the most heavily-armed bandit suddenly gurgled out a choked cry as Sona’s arrow lodged into his throat. Varl swiftly shot a few of the bandits with hunter’s arrows, and then he and the rest of the Nora youth surged into the camp to attack head-on. 

This type of organized attack was routine for Varl, allowing him to keep most of his attention on the young hunters in case they needed help. Varl snuck up behind one bandit before he had a chance to attack Tera unawares, and drew Mirn’s attention to another bandit so Mirn could take the bandit out before he had time to draw an arrow. 

Then Varl turned, and suddenly his stomach was filled with chillwater: one of their weaker hunters, a girl named Lani, was cowering from a bandit who was running full tilt towards her with a wickedly sharp scimitar in hand… and neither Varl nor Sona was close enough to intervene. But Varl couldn’t just stand by and watch. In desperation, he started sprinting towards Lani.

But before he’d taken more than three strides, there was a flash of red and machine metal as Nil surged out of the long grass behind Lani and slammed into the bandit, tackling him to the ground. Nil’s knife flashed in the sun as he swiped the blade brutally across the bandit’s windpipe, then stabbed the bandit twice in the chest for good measure. 

Varl heaved a huge sigh of relief and trotted over to Lani, who was trembling in the grass as Nil slowly rose to stand over her. Varl reached Nil’s side in time to hear his words to the younger girl. “Why did you freeze like a rabbit? Are you a hunter, or are you prey?”

Varl winced at his cruelty. Lani shakily pushed herself into a kneeling position. “I can’t do this! I’m too weak,” she exclaimed. She looked at Varl in despair. “All-Mother didn’t give me the skills to hunt. I’m not meant to be a warrior.”

Nil frowned at her. “What kind of excuse is that? Is this not your first hunt?” 

Lani nodded confirmation, and Nil shrugged casually. “Then try again. And next time, don’t freeze.” 

Lani’s shoulders drooped. “But I…”

Nil cut her off. “Not everyone is born with the gift of death. Some hunters have to learn to steal the life from their unlucky victims.” He raised one eyebrow and smirked. “We can’t all be exceptional."

“That’s what I mean!” Lani cried, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I don’t have the gift of the hunt. All-Mother didn’t deem me worthy-” 

“Forget the precious All-Mother,” Nil interrupted impatiently. “If you want to be a hunter, just try again. Just practice. You have all these… tribe-mates. Or whatever you call yourselves. Work with them.” He shot Varl a long-suffering look. 

But Varl couldn’t help but smile. Nil’s delivery might leave something to be desired, but his advice was very similar to what Varl himself would have said.

“The Carja is right.” Varl turned to see the War-Chief stepping up behind them. Her face was as stern as ever, but she gave Nil a quick appraising look as she spoke to Lani. “Your skills will only grow by working harder. Whining will get you nowhere. Do you understand?”

Lani swallowed hard and wiped away her tears as she stood. “Yes, War-Chief.” Together, the little group of youth began the short journey to Mother’s Heart with Nil, Varl, and Sona following them in silence. 

Varl watched his mother surreptitiously from the corner of his eye as they picked their way through the ruins. Her face was hard as stone as always, but her gait was relaxed, with no residual signs of anger. Varl relaxed as well; he’d been worried that Nil and his mother would resume their earlier disagreement, but from the careful quality of their silence, it seemed that they’d decided - _thankfully_ \- to table their discussion for now. Hopefully indefinitely. 

They arrived in Mother’s Heart by late afternoon, and immediately Varl spotted Aloy at a small campfire just outside the gates; she was gazing vacantly into the middle distance and swiping her hands in the air, a sure sign that she was using her Focus. She gave a small smile and tapped her device as she saw them approaching, and greeted Nil with an affectionate squeeze to his arm. “Well? How was it?”

Nil’s face was blank as he shrugged moodily, but Sona shocked everyone with her response. “He did… well. His advice was sound. One of our young hunters would surely have perished without his help.” Then Sona looked steadily at Nil and pursed her lips, then inclined her head ever so slightly to him. “Thank you.”

Nil pursed his lips as well, then returned the formal nod. “You’re welcome.” 

Sona gazed at him for a moment longer, then narrowed her eyes. “You think carefully about what I said,” she told him threateningly, then glanced very briefly at Aloy before walking away. 

Aloy stared at the War-Chief’s departing back, then turned to Varl and Nil with wide eyes. “Okay, who’s going to tell me what I missed?”

Nil gave Varl a sharp look. “Not a word,” he growled. 

Varl held his hands up innocently and grimaced at Aloy. “Seriously, you don’t want to know. You’d have to ask the War-Chief… but I really, _really_ suggest you don’t.”

Aloy raised her eyebrows and stared at Varl. “I’m the Anointed. I command you to tell me.” 

Varl laughed. “You can’t just trot your title out whenever it suits you! Nice try.”

Aloy grinned and relaxed. “All right, all right. I’ll let it go. Just this once,” she added in a severe tone. 

“I need a drink,” Nil interrupted suddenly. “Do you get Scrappersap all the way out here?”

Aloy pulled an apologetic face. “I’ve never seen Scrappersap this far east. But the local beer is good. And the ciders are really excellent.” She ran her hand comfortingly over his back. “It seems like you’ve earned it.” Then she turned to Varl. “Want to join us?”

Varl nodded. “Yes, I do. Thanks.” Eagerly he followed Nil and Aloy towards the central lodge. As he watched Aloy and Nil murmuring together, their matching Focuses glinting faintly in the afternoon sun, Varl rustled up his courage. 

Nil’s comments about the Focus and the world it revealed were so arcane and foreign… and tantalizing. Varl knew his mother wouldn’t approve, but it was too late: his curiosity had been irrevocably piqued, and he was determined now to ask Aloy and Nil what the Focus showed. 

When Aloy had offered to show him the inside of All-Mother two years ago, Varl had been too fearful to accept … but maybe, at long last, he was ready to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nerd's note on Aloy learning glyphs through her Focus - probably TL;DR if you're not interested in this issue: 
> 
> One of the things that preoccupied me a bit about HZD is the issue of who can read glyphs (which I just assume is the Roman alphabet, since everyone we've met in HZD so far speaks English). From what I have gleaned from the game, the Banuk and the Nora spurn the glyphs: the Nora see them as being cursed, and the Banuk scorn anything having to do with the Old Ones. Educated Carja read the glyphs, but not all Carja do; for example, Janeva at Sunstone Rock does not read. Some Oseram read the glyphs (e.g. Erend and Olin do), but it's uncertain whether they all do. What I find interesting is that Aloy can read, even though nobody taught her. 
> 
> Language is an inherent human ability in the sense that if you throw two humans together in a room, they'll develop language; there's a [famous case of a school for deaf children in Nicaragua](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nicaraguan_Sign_Language) where the children actually developed a full and complex sign language to communicate with each other. Writing and reading, on the other hand, must be explicitly learned: someone who knows how to read has to sit down with a child and teach them the relationship between the words we speak and the letters/characters written on a page. But Aloy can read, even though nobody taught her how. 
> 
> How is this possible? Well, even though writing usually has to be taught, some people can learn to read without being taught. It still requires the child to be exposed to writing, and the kid would need to have strong verbal/linguistic skills. In Aloy's case, she was exposed to writing through her Focus. She's incredibly curious and determined, so she probably wanted to figure out what those mysterious letters meant. And one could argue that Aloy has Elisabet's strongly developed intelligence to help her quickly pick up the relationship between spoken and written words. 
> 
> TL;DR take-home: Aloy being able to read is cool. Lol. If anyone wants to discuss this more, [feel free to message me on Tumblr,](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) or ask me about the HZD Discord - we have nerdy HZD group discussions that are super fun!
> 
> Anyway! Next chapter will be SMUT. kbai~


	9. Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut. Just pure smut. Not even any pretense of a plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline note: this happens any time after Stormbirds and Stalkers.

A thin shaft of bright sunlight slants in through the chink in the tent flap and dances across Aloy’s eyelids.

The buttery ray of light wakes her as surely as the sudden slide of Nil’s morning wood against her bottom. 

He’s still mostly asleep, she knows; his breath against her neck is slow and deep with slumber. But a semi-conscious state has never stopped Nil from taking full advantage of Aloy’s nearness, and it doesn’t stop him now from sliding his hand slowly inside her soft Nora shirt. He splays his hot palm on her belly and strokes his hardness against her butt in a smooth, firm stroke. 

Instantly Aloy’s groin is tingling with heat and anticipation. She languorously presses back against Nil’s hips, and he responds by clenching his fingers slightly against her belly and grumbling with sleepy approval. 

Twice more he rubs himself against her. But when he thrusts forward a third time, Aloy suddenly shifts away from him. 

It’s an intentional tease. She smiles to herself as Nil’s happy grumble becomes a petulant growl. He slides close to her again, gathering her back against his chest with his arm around her waist, then pumps his silk-trousered pelvis against her ass more insistently as he slips his hand up to palm her breast. 

Her nipple pearls instantly at his touch, and Aloy presses back against him firmly, her lips parting with lust as Nil’s grunt of satisfaction rumbles against her back. But after a few more slow, firm thrusts, she abruptly pulls away again, leaving his pumping hips bereft. 

Nil’s patience shatters like a faulty Watcher’s lens. Suddenly Aloy is pressed face-down against the bedroll and Nil is on top of her, his arms banded tightly around her waist so she can barely move. She gasps with excitement; Nil is still only half awake, and early-morning moments like this tend to bring the possessive, unapologetic beast inside of him surging to the fore. 

Aloy knows this. It’s what she wants. It’s what she invited when she thwarted the rubbing of his cock against her ass. But there’s no stopping Nil now as he rocks himself between her helplessly spread legs, her prone form held down by the strength of his arms.

Aloy gasps at the tantalizing friction of his cock through her Nora leggings. Her cheek is pressed to the bedroll, and she’s so aroused that even the rough fabric of the camp bedding against her lips feels pleasurable. She wants more. Her sleeping clothes are an offensive barrier, and suddenly she wants them off.

It’s like Nil has read her mind; he loosens his grip around her waist just long enough to roll her shirt up and over her head, then the weight of his upper body is pressing down on her again, his left arm clasped around her waist as his right hand roughly drags her leggings down over her hips to her knees. 

He rhythmically rubs his cock against her bare ass, and Aloy whines pleadingly for more. His rock-hard cock contrasts with the smooth slide of the silk trousers he’s still wearing, and Aloy wiggles fruitlessly, trying to thrust back against him, but his arms are like Oseram steel around her waist. 

Abruptly Nil lifts his weight from her back and Aloy eagerly tries to push herself up, but Nil’s left hand is firm between her shoulder blades, keeping her flat. He shifts his position, trapping her legs between his knees so he’s kneeling over her prone body, and she can’t move against the implacable pressure of his palm on her naked back. 

He reaches between her legs and smoothes his fingers over her pussy, spreading her slick heat, and Aloy gasps sharply and bucks convulsively back against his fingers. Nil’s satisfied little laugh is like spiced honey pouring over her skin: unbearably sweet but with a rough bite. His fingers are a precision arrow targeting her clit with perfect focus. She presses her face more firmly against the bedroll, wishing it was the silken steel of his cock against her lips instead of the rough fabric of their bedding. 

Suddenly Nil’s hands are on her hips, hauling her hips up and back until she’s on her knees and elbows. He’s shoving her legs apart, he’s shifting back, and Aloy is light-headed with excitement: she knows what’s coming, she _knows_ , and she’s breathless with anticipation. His breath is hot against her inner thigh- 

She’s never quite prepared for that first hot stroke of his tongue between her legs. The slick warmth of his mouth on her pussy sends an icy wave of heat spilling from her scalp clear down to her groin, and she buries her face in the bedroll to muffle her groan of ecstasy. 

Usually he’s gentle to start, teasing her with open-mouthed kisses and gentle lapping until she begs for mercy. But on mornings like this, when Nil hasn’t had a chance to fully rouse his mind before burying his face between her thighs, he’s ravenous. His fingers grip the back of her thigh as he slicks his tongue ruthlessly over her clit with a firm circular rhythm. Every smooth lick is perfect, a firm pressure that shoves her swiftly and mercilessly towards her peak. 

Her thighs are shuddering with tension. Her fingers are tangled in her own hair, gripping her scalp as the pleasure builds, gaining strength and power like a tightly-strung Banuk bow. Suddenly the pleasure shatters over her, splintering with all the scintillating beauty of a shard of ice, and her cry of rapture would shatter the stillness of the morning air if not for the bedroll between her teeth that captures her cries. 

She feels like the blood is pulsing just behind her eardrums, making them ring with the sweet music of orgasm. Then Nil’s hand is on her back again, keeping her still. Aloy gasps for breath and looks over her shoulder at him; he’s tugging roughly at the laces of his silk trousers, and Aloy can hear the guttural sound of his breaths, every exhale punctuated with a feral grunt. His lip curls with frustration as he tugs one-handed at his laces.

It’s on the tip of her tongue to demand that he let her help, but finally his laces come loose and he frees himself, roughly shoving his trousers off before resuming his kneeling position behind her. Her gaze snags immediately on the proud rise of his manhood. It’s like a spear, piercing her attention and giving her a new and single-minded focus that would make him proud. 

Nil’s hand on her back is distracted, the pressure of his palm loose and unfocused. Aloy takes full advantage by spreading her knees as wide as she can and swiftly backing onto his cock, and the _relief_ , All-Mother’s mercy, the sweet _relief_ as he fills her up… 

Nil gasps and then groans as she takes his full length inside of her. It’s an animalistic but vulnerable sound, and it rouses a fierce wave of desire and protectiveness in her chest. In this position with Nil sitting back on his knees, he can’t control the pace, and Aloy takes charge, her palms braced on the ground as she fucks him hard and fast. 

The sweet friction of his length inside of her sends wave after wave of perfect rapture thrumming through her limbs. The feeling reminds her of the violent bursting of life across Nora land in springtime. She shoves herself back against his hips, gasping hoarsely with every thrust. Tendrils of ecstasy are unfurling from her core, blooming and spreading through her blood, watered and nurtured by the sound of Nil’s desperate breaths. 

Suddenly he surges forward, and Aloy is flung down onto her elbows again as Nil grabs her hips hard and wrests control back from her. She almost laughs; he rarely allows her to take charge for long, and she loves him for it. But there’s no time for laughter, not when he’s fucking her with such single-minded purpose, not when the pleasure is shooting through her like tender blades of new grass from the soil...

Nil growls low in his throat. His fingers tighten on her hips until they’re almost painful, and his growl becomes feral, reminding Aloy of the building thunder of a Ravager’s roar. Somehow this arouses her more, and she gasps with fresh excitement. Then he’s leaning over her, groaning with release, and he bites her left shoulder blade _hard_.

Aloy cries out with a combination of surprised pain and pleasure as he sinks his teeth into her skin. He holds fast with his cock pressed deep inside of her and his teeth pressed into her back, then slowly he relaxes: his fingers loosen, his hips lose their tension, and his bite becomes a kiss.

He trails his lips in a tender line along her back as he pulls out of her. Her shoulder blade is stinging, and Nil kisses the spot very gently, then grumbles a tiny chuckle against her skin. 

Aloy languidly lowers herself onto her belly and rests her sweaty cheek on her folded arms. “Morning,” she says.

Nil smoothes his palms soothingly over her bare back, avoiding her tender left shoulder blade. “Good morning, Suntress. The skin of a new day is split wide by the knife of possibility.”

Aloy snorts in amusement. His response is so _gross_ but so poetic at the same time. The juxtaposition of his words and his voice matches the mood of this morning’s passion:he's bestial one second and dignified the next, smoothly swapping moods like Carja nobles swap necklaces. 

Nil kisses her wounded shoulder blade again, and Aloy makes a little noise of annoyed discomfort. “That was a hard bite, Nil,” she complains. 

“Yes, it was. You’re bleeding,” he says matter-of-factly. Aloy cranes her neck back to stare at him in surprise before laughing at the faintly sheepish look on his face. “I thought you drew the line at tasting blood, you cannibal,” she teases. 

“It was a genuine accident. A sprinkling of blood in the heat of the moment; I just couldn’t resist. Will you forgive me?” he says. The deadpan tone of his voice is offset by his gentle hand running hypnotically across her back and the tender kiss he drops on her sweaty neck. 

“You’re forgiven,” Aloy murmurs sleepily. She really doesn’t mind. As Nil would say, she’s had worse and given worse: after all, he has a faint scar at the juncture of his neck and shoulder where she bit him during their first time together. She figures that fair is only fair. 

“Come lie down,” she mumbles eventually. Nil’s hands still on her back and he huffs with amusement, then lies next to her on his side and pulls his bedroll over her.

“You don’t want to get up?” he asks. His sing-song voice is deep and relaxed, sliding smoothly over her like the cool water of a river, and Aloy shakes her head slightly. “Not yet.” 

Most mornings are for action and purpose, but action _was_ her purpose this morning.

And Aloy’s more than satisfied at having met her goal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This will be my last Niloy oneshot for a while! I have an idea for another longfic based on the Frozen Wilds, but I have to, you know, finish playing the DLC first before I can write the fic.
> 
> Hope you guys are still with me! xoxo :)


	10. Opili

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nil has a run-in with an obstreperous Banuk child named Opili at Stone Yield. Frozen Wilds spoilers; don't read if you haven't played the DLC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is an accompaniment to [Chapter 8](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12965001/chapters/29746944) of What Else Matters, my Frozen Wilds fic. I wrote an entire long scene with Nil interacting with Opili, but it got out of hand (like 6 pages out of hand HAHA) so I cut it... but it was amusing enough (I thought at least) to finish off into a oneshot. So here you go. 
> 
> Here's the [full video clip of Opili,](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/post/167913990276/opili-the-most-feared-future-bandit-leader-of) in case you didn't meet her while doing the bandit camp in TFW. She's pretty spectacular. <3

“You’re too late, outlander! The Great Opili has already claimed this camp!” 

Nil recoiled in surprise as a small Banuk child pointed a small spear imperiously at him. The child was wearing the bandit leader’s elaborate helmet, and it covered her entire face, giving her a completely ludicrous appearance. “Remember my name,” the child announced. “I will be the most feared bandit leader of all.” 

Nil wilted with exasperation, then turned back to the chest he was rifling through and started pulling out canisters of blaze. “What name was that again? I’ve forgotten already.” 

The child stomped her foot. “Opili! And don’t you forget! My song will be so loud, all will try to cover their ears. But that will be forbidden!” 

“I wish I could cover my ears now,” Nil drawled. He closed the chest and walked away.

The small child chased him down the ramp. “You’re a Carja, aren’t you? I see the evil tattoos on your face. Your people will hear of my bandit deeds and build a wall to hold me back, but it won’t work!” 

Nil suddenly spun to face Opili, and she stumbled to clumsy a halt. Nil knelt down to face her. “Do you know _my_ name?” he said quietly. 

“No,” Opili scoffed. “Who are you?” 

“My name is Nil. I’m the greatest bandit hunter in all the land. I leave piles of corpses in my wake as high as a Tallneck. Rivers run red with blood after I’ve razed a bandit clan to the ground. Do you know what that means?”

Opili scowled at him but didn’t answer, and Nil smiled his slowest, most feral grin. “It means that I’ll hunt _you_ , and spill your blood, and put your corpse on a pile. Is that what you want?”

Any other child would have cried and run away. 

This Opili was different. She planted her fists on her stout little waist and raised her chin. “You can’t hunt me! I’ll have the biggest horde of bandits you’ve ever seen. They’ll cut you into pieces and use you for fishbait.” 

Nil raised his eyebrows with grudging respect. This child was tough. He stood and continued to walk away, and Opili followed him like an overridden Strider. “Only a coward hides behind a horde,” Nil drawled. “Your fierceness will only be respected if you can rip the beating heart and the trembling breath from an enemy’s chest with your own hands. Are you a coward?”

“Of course not!” Opili snapped, and something about her reply - the snappish tone, the fiery refusal - reminded him abruptly of Suntress.

Nil squeezed the bridge of his nose to quash the sudden burning in his eyes. Then he strode towards the campfire. “Leave me alone, girl.” 

The brat followed him to the fire. “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re in _my_ camp,” she said. “You’ll tell me everything you know about bandits, and when you’re done, you’ll leave and spread the word that the Great Opili-” 

Nil spun on the child again. “Go. Away,” he hissed. _Why_ were all of these people so stubborn, forcing their company on him when he wanted the company of only one person? 

_Just go back. Just go back. You miss her. Just go back._

Opili folded her arms and raised her chin, and the helmet teetered precariously on her head. “You’re rude,” she announced. “That’s a good quality in a bandit. I’ll allow you to share my meat.” 

“Opili,” a woman’s reproving voice said, and Nil glanced over to see a stern, dark-skinned woman frowning at the little girl. “Leave the outlander alone. Come and eat your dinner.”

Opili hunched defensively. “That’s my mother,” she muttered to Nil. 

“Good,” Nil said vindictively. “You have to listen to _her_.” 

The obstinate child turned to her mother. “This outlander is Nil. He’s my slave,” she announced to her mother. “He has to tell me everything he knows about bandits.” 

Nil stared hard at Opili, then without quite meaning to, he snorted a laugh. He had little experience with children, but he’d never seen one so bold and presumptuous. Itamen certainly didn’t have this brat’s fire. 

He sat heavily by the fire, then suddenly reached out and pulled the helmet off of Opili’s head. 

“ _Hey!_ Give that back!” she yelled. Nil held the helmet just out of her reach and she grabbed for it, then shoved her unruly black curls out of her face and glared at Nil. 

Nil stared briefly back at her. Her eyes were the bright green of new spring grass. He dropped the helmet on the ground, and Opili scrambled for it, then pulled it back over her face and folded her arms haughtily. “How _dare_ you touch my helmet? You’ll pay for this insolence.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Nil replied automatically. The pit of yearning in his stomach was howling. Suntress’s eyes sometimes lit with that same precise shade of grass-green, especially when she lifted her face to admire the slanting of light through the Sundom’s jungle. 

“My apologies,” Opili’s mother said wearily. “Opili hasn’t yet learned that children should be seen but not heard.” She reached over and offered a chunk of roasted boar to Nil, who took it with a small nod. He took a bite of his meat and chewed slowly, then slumped with annoyance as Opili plopped down beside him and eyed the meat in his hand with disdain.

“I prefer _my_ meat bloody in the middle,” Opili proclaimed, and despite himself, Nil smirked. He also preferred his boar on the rarer side. 

“You’ll get no meat at all if you don’t remove the helmet,” Opili’s mother said sternly, and Opili folded her arms obstinately. “Fine,” Opili retorted. “I don’t need meat. I’ll sustain myself with my plans of conquest. The Claim will be my first,” she informed Nil matter-of-factly. 

Nil ignored her and took another bite of his food, but his silence only seemed to spur her to talk further. “The Oseram will try to keep me out by… err… well, I haven’t decided what the Oseram will do, but it won’t stop me.” 

Nil tuned her out as best he could, but ignoring Opili’s voice only served to bring his attention back to that insidious voice in his head. _Just go back, just go back, these travels are worth nothing without her, just go back-_

Nil swallowed his last bite of meat and held out his hand to Opili’s mother for a second portion, which she handed over wordlessly. Then Nil turned to Opili. “I dare you to try and eat this with the helmet on.” 

Opili’s mother sighed. “Don’t encourage her,” she said. In response, the contrary child instantly perked up and took the meat from Nil. “I’ll accept this challenge!” she proclaimed. “My helmet is my mark. It’s how my enemies will know me. If I eat while wearing it, my reputation will spread even more!”

Nil shook his head, then watched with sardonic amusement as Opili carefully peeled small strips of meat from the chunk of boar and gingerly pushed them under her helmet and (presumably) into her mouth. With this task, the small child was finally silent, her attention fully occupied by the arduous task of eating.

“Thank you,” Opili’s mother muttered grudgingly, and Nil shrugged; he’d only been trying to distract himself and shut the child up. He gazed unseeingly at the flames for a while, but when this only reminded him of Suntress’s hair, he returned his attention to Opili, who’d resumed nattering away between bites of her food.

Finally Opili finished her meal, and Nil stood and began to make his way towards the path out of the settlement. He’d had more than enough contact with other people for one day. But Opili ran after him. “Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

“To sleep. Go away,” Nil grunted. 

“Opili! Come back to the tent!” Opili’s mother barked, but Opili ignored her and gazed up at Nil through her ludicrous mask. “When I’m a bandit leader, I’ll stay up all night and sleep all day just to confuse my enemies.” 

“Good for you,” Nil drawled. Then he walked away. 

Two more nights without Suntress, with only the hissing voice in his head for company. 

He couldn’t go back. He couldn’t just follow her. He would survive this.

**************************

The next afternoon, Nil sat at his makeshift camp outside of Stone Yield crafting ammo. When he’d been injured and stuck at Free Heap years ago, he’d discovered that crafting ammo compulsively was a good way to keep his hands and his mind occupied. Besides, Thunder’s Drum would doubtless be teeming with machines, and extra ammo would never go amiss. 

A soft crunching in the nearby snow caught Nil’s attention, and he floated his hand over the hilt of his knife as he looked up. Then he sighed loudly. “What are you doing out here?” he demanded. 

Opili didn’t have her toy spear today; instead, she was carrying a child’s training bow. And somehow, she still had that cursed helmet on her head. _Stubborn fucking brat,_ Nil thought with annoyance. 

She swaggered over to him and planted one hand on her hip. “I saw you from the parapet,” she said. “You didn’t try to come into my camp. That means you respect my dominion.” 

Nil tilted his head and raised one eyebrow. “Does it, though?” He returned his attention to the half-made arrow in his hands and finished attaching the arrowhead to the shaft, then picked up a new ridgewood shaft. 

Opili stood and watched Nil in uncharacteristic silence while he finished the arrow, then planted both fists on her hips. “Show me how to make arrows. I will win a horde by being the strongest hunter in the land!” 

Nil glanced at her. She was so fucking _annoying._ “I am not your slave,” he said quietly. “You want to learn how to make arrows? Pay me. Two pieces of desert glass is my price.”

“ _What!_ That’s extortion!” Opili protested. “Where am I supposed to find two whole pieces of desert glass?”

Nil smirked and continued his work. “I thought you were a bandit leader. What kind of bandit leader doesn’t have crates filled with loot?” 

Opili stamped her foot. “I demand you to teach me now!”

Slowly Nil looked up at her, and the belligerent child _finally_ took a literal step back at the look on his face. “Get out of my face and don’t come back without payment, or I will gut you like a trout,” he said quietly. 

“You wouldn’t _dare_ ,” Opili spat, and Nil had to force himself not to grin at her sass, even as a bitter wash of longing dampened his mood further. This little brat had a fire that was painfully familiar to him. But Nil’s threat seemed to have worked: Opili turned on her heel and ran back towards the settlement, her overly large helmet trembling on her head as she went. “You haven’t seen the last of me!” she called over her shoulder. 

Nil snorted in disdain and kept crafting arrows. He knew he should move his temporary camp to a different area; even when threatened, Opili wasn’t going to leave him in peace while he was within sight of Stone Yield. But something stopped him: he desperately needed all the distractions he could get. The voice in his head had quieted to a dull roar while hunting this morning, but as his crafting became more and more mindless, the voice had returned, hissing viciously in his ear despite his attempts to ignore it. 

_Just go back. Just go back. You can barely breathe without her, just go back-_

Nil shook his head as though he could dislodge his own thoughts, then switched to crafting ice bombs for a change. He couldn’t go back. He couldn’t just follow her. He had to survive.

A surprisingly short amount of time later, Opili ran back over to Nil’s side and thrust her fist at him. “Here. Now teach me to make arrows, before I change my mind and torture you instead.” 

Nil looked at the desert glass in her palm with surprise. He’d expected her to come back, but he hadn’t expected her to actually bring desert glass with her. Cautiously he took the irregularly shaped gems from her little palm. “Where did you find these?” he asked. 

“I found one in a crate, and the other in a dead man’s pocket,” she replied blithely. “Now teach me how to make arrows!” 

Nil stared at her. _She… looted a corpse?_ Suddenly he laughed - a genuine, loud laugh of delight. This child was unbelievable. He shifted over and nodded for her to sit on the ground beside him, then cut a ridgewood shaft in two and handed her one half. “I’ll teach you to make practice arrows, made of wood only. No shards. I won’t waste shards on child’s arrows.” 

“I’m not just any child, you muddy puddle of meltwater,” Opili snapped. “I’m the Great Opili-” 

“Shut up,” Nil said succinctly. “And take off that fucking helmet. You won’t be able to see what you’re doing.” 

Opili sighed loudly, but finally she reached up and pulled the helmet off her head and delicately placed it beside her. She glared up at Nil, and again he was struck by how brilliantly the green of her eyes stood out in the umber of her face. “This had better be worth it,” she said threateningly. “No enemy will ever see my face when I have a horde of my own.”

Nil rolled his eyes. “Take up your knife. You’ll need to carve the tip-”

“I don’t have a knife,” Opili interrupted, and Nil slumped in total exasperation. What was _wrong_ with this girl? Nil had been carrying a knife since he was younger than her! “What kind of bandit leader doesn’t have a knife?” he demanded.

Opili spluttered with indignation. “How dare- I- I’m working on it!” she finally retorted. 

Nil shook his head in disgust. “Watch carefully then,” he commanded. “You’ll use mine to carve the tips.” He used his short utility knife to skillfully carve two ridgewood shafts into points, then turned to Opili.

Another odd pang of wistfulness jolted his chest at the focused, serious frown on Opili’s face. Nil swallowed back the strange lump of homesickness in his throat and offered his utility knife to Opili, who took it silently and began slowly carving the tip of one ridgewood shaft. 

Nil resumed making ice bombs and watched Opili’s efforts out of the corner of his eye; what she lacked in skill, she made up for with determination, her little lips pouted in concentration as she worked in precious silence. Three ice bombs later, she finally turned to Nil. “There!” she announced.

Nil glanced at the arrow she’d made and immediately shook his head. “Start over,” he said. “The end is too blunt. It’ll bounce off your target instead of slicing deep. What use is an arrow that can’t penetrate its target?” 

Opili scowled, but to her credit, she didn’t complain like a noble Carja child would; she immediately put aside the arrow she’d made and picked up a new ridgewood shaft to begin anew, and Nil felt another unexpected jolt of respect for the brat’s lack of tantrum. She was nothing if not determined. Single-minded, even.

When Opili finally carved a ridgewood shaft to Nil’s satisfaction, he wordlessly demonstrated how to fletch it with owls’ feathers, and she began fletching with the same combination of clumsiness and utter focus until she became reasonably proficient at the task. 

The afternoon wore on, with Opili and Nil crafting ammo side-by-side largely in silence. To Nil’s total surprise, his annoyance at Opili continued to melt over the course of the day until her quiet, focused company was almost welcome. It was a good distraction, after all; while he was watching Opili to make sure she didn’t cut off her fingers, he couldn’t listen to the voice in his head that was screaming for Suntress.

By the time the sun was setting, Opili had a small pile of decent practice arrows at her side. She showed her pile proudly to Nil, who shrugged. “They’ll do,” he told her. Her jerked his chin towards the Lancehorn-shaped practice dummy a short ways away. “Now go practice.” 

Opili tilted her chin up defiantly. Now that she’d gotten what she wanted, she’d segued back into her usual bolshy manner. “Don’t tell me what to do,” she replied, then followed his command and strode off towards the practice dummy. “Now watch me. I have _excellent_ technique. That’s why I’ll be the most notorious bandit leader of all. All the other bandits will want to learn from me.” 

Nil studiously ignored her until she took up her position fifteen paces away from the dummy. Her technique wasn’t completely amateurish, but it was far from ideal. Nil watched with vague curiosity as she pulled her drawstring back, her grass-green eyes narrowed as she gazed at her target. If Nil narrowed his own eyes, Opili’s eyes almost seemed to have a golden tinge to them from the setting sun.

Nil swallowed hard and looked back down at the half-made ice bomb in his hands. “Your feet are too close together,” he said. Opili didn’t reply, and Nil glanced up to see her carefully sliding her feet further apart. 

He smirked, then finished off his ice bomb as he listened to the characteristic soft _thunk_ as Opili started shooting her practice arrows at the dummy. One in three of her arrows actually landed in the dummy, and Nil shrugged in grudging approval. It could be worse. 

“Opili!” At that moment, the child’s mother appeared at the gate, her arms folded and a perpetually weary look on her face. “It’s time to eat. Come inside.” 

Opili ignored her mother until she finished shooting her final arrow (it landed in the grass at the practice dummy’s feet), then turned to Nil. “It’s time to eat,” she announced to him, as though he hadn’t heard exactly what her mother had just said. “Come inside.”

Nil was tempted to ignore her. These Banuk were being so overly _friendly_ , and Nil’s instinctive response was to refuse… but the threat of that hissing voice in his head gave him pause. He really needed the distraction. Besides, Opili’s bossiness was so _familiar_ that before Nil had time to think about it further, he was slowly rising to his feet and trudging towards the entrance of Stone Yield. Opili smiled smugly and trotted over to join him, and he unceremoniously plonked her Oseram helmet back on her head. “Go find me the bloodiest piece of meat,” he told her. 

Opili shook her helmeted head, her face once again entirely hidden. “You can have the second bloodiest piece of meat, but only because you’re my personal slave,” she informed him haughtily. “The bloodiest piece is for me.” She scampered past her mother towards the fire. 

Nil drew level with Opili’s mother as they followed the errant child back to the fire. “Thank you for watching her,” Opili’s mother murmured. She pursed her lips with displeasure. “She’s… difficult. Undisciplined. Doesn’t do as she’s told. It won’t serve a werak well in the future.” 

Nil raised one eyebrow. He’d found Opili to be quite disciplined; she’d sat with him quietly making arrows for hours. “A wellspring of ruthless bloodlust simmers there. It’s admirable in a child so young,” he replied. “Damming it won’t work. Channelling it in the direction you want, on the other hand…” He shrugged. “She seems amenable enough to me.”

Opili’s mother shot him a look of alarm, but when his facial expression remained placid and blank, she twisted her lips ruefully. “I… see your point. I think.” She sighed wearily. “Well, you’re welcome to instruct her. The Blue Light alone knows she’s more fond of you than any of our hunters.” 

Nil recoiled slightly. He didn’t want to stay at this settlement and instruct anyone. Why did these Banuk keep saying this? “I’m leaving tomorrow,” he replied bluntly. He had more important things to do than teach some amateur youth and a bloodthirsty child how to hunt. 

Opili’s mother nodded acknowledgement. Then Opili’s high, commanding voice called out from the fire. “Nil! Sit here. I have your bloody meat. But you must entertain me with a hunting story before I’ll give it to you!” 

Opili’s mother sighed again, but Nil only smirked. “Meat first, then a story. _If_ I feel like it,” he called back, and she stomped her foot, making Nil smirk more widely. 

_Stubborn and bossy,_ he thought with grudging approval. _She’ll make a good huntress someday._


	11. Rainbow Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Total and utter plotless fluff and smut set near a hot spring in the Cut. This oneshot is a complement to [What Else Matters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12965001/chapters/29638392), but there are no spoilers here for those of you who haven't yet played the DLC (or read the fic). 
> 
> NSFW smut, obviously. ;)

“Suntress…” 

Aloy reluctantly tore her gaze from the nearby rainbow pool and turned to Nil. “Hmm? What?” 

Nil held out his hand. “I need that peg.” 

Aloy trudged over to where Nil was kneeling beside their half-raised tent. He smirked at her as she distractedly handed him the tent peg. “Is this your idea of helping?” he asked.

Aloy finally turned and smiled ruefully at him. “Sorry, sorry. Uh, give me one of those poles?” 

Nil stood and brushed the snow off his knees, then jerked his chin towards the rainbow pool. “Go and stare, Suntress. The curiosity is rolling off of you like steam from an open corpse. I’ll finish this.” 

Aloy grinned, then kissed Nil quickly on the lips before turning eagerly towards the pool. But before she could run off, Nil grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him. “I’ll expect a boon in return,” he purred against her cheek. 

Aloy smiled at the sensual growl in his voice and raised her lips to his ear. Provocatively she whispered, “It’ll be my pleasure… to put up the tent by myself next time.” 

Nil snorted in amusement and released her hand, and Aloy scampered out of the cover of the woods towards the rainbow pool. She slowed her pace as she neared the pool and tapped her Focus, and was pleased when no machines or humans showed up in the vicinity. 

A delighted smile lit her face as she crouched at the water’s edge and examined the pool. Tempting tendrils of heated mist lifted from its surface. The burnt orange of the sand under Aloy’s feet softened into a sunny yellow at the rim of the pool, then melted from grass-green to aqua as the water became deeper, ending finally in a deep royal blue at the pool’s centre. The rainbow pool near Song’s Edge was beautiful as well, but that water was swirling with dyes stirred up by the Banuk artisans’ craft. Aloy hadn’t been certain how much of the water’s vibrancy was due to the dyes and how much was natural, and she was amazed to discover that the kaleidoscope of colours really was this vivid without human intervention. 

For a long, peaceful moment, Aloy simply admired the pool, her hands held over the edge of the water to take in the delicious heat. A few minutes later, Nil’s presence was heralded by the soft crunching of his footsteps in the snow. “Are you just going to look, or are you going to get in?”

She smiled over her shoulder at the sardonic tone of his voice. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’m not entirely certain how safe it is.” Being able to swim in such a beautiful body of water seemed almost too good to be true.

“Those Banuk at Song’s Edge were in the pool,” Nil reasoned. 

“Yeah, but they might have treated that water to make it safe.”

Nil tilted his head to the side and folded his arms. “I scanned a datapoint about these pools. They’re safe to swim in, Suntress.” 

Aloy quirked an eyebrow as she stood to face him. “Really? Show me the datapoint.” 

An incredulous smile lifted Nil’s lips. “What, you don’t believe me? You wound me.” 

Aloy grinned slowly. “I didn’t say that. I just said I want to see the datapoint.” 

Nil laughed, then tapped his Focus. “All right, fine. I’ll just stand over here, nursing my injured pride that my own wife doesn’t trust me.” 

Aloy snickered and shoved him in the chest. “Wow, somebody’s in a dramatic mood.” She tapped her Focus and brought up the datapoint that Nil had sent to her. A smile lit her face as she read the datapoint and confirmed that Nil was, indeed, correct.

She turned towards him. “Okay, I’ll admit-” 

But Nil wasn’t beside her… and then she heard a _splash_. Moments later, Nil’s bare head and shoulders emerged from the rainbow pool. He shook his head wildly, scattering drops of water through the cold air, then grinned at her. 

Aloy folded her arms and smirked. “You couldn’t even wait until I finished reading the datapoint?”

Nil tilted his head as he smoothly treaded water. “An apology from your Stormbird’s lips will be as sweet as honeyed wine. I’ll accept one anytime.” 

Aloy rolled her eyes and pulled off her boots. “Okay, okay, you were right and I was wrong. I’m sorry.” 

“Not the most gracious apology I’ve ever heard, but I suppose it’ll do.” Nil sighed with mock-resignation, then frowned as Aloy sat at the edge of the pool and dipped her bare feet in. “You’re really not coming in?”

“I will. But I want to enjoy the view first,” she said. She raised one eyebrow salaciously at Nil; he was swimming naked, after all, having stripped down _very_ quickly while she was reading the datapoint. 

Nil chuckled and then floated on his back in the water, allowing Aloy a full-frontal view of her husband in all his naked glory. Aloy leaned back on her hands and fluttered her feet in the water as she stared greedily at the carved muscular planes of Nil’s chest, gleaming with water from the pool. She was used to seeing his chest and arms exposed when they were travelling through the Sundom and the Sacred Lands, but she hadn’t realized how much she missed the bronze of his skin until he’d had to cover it up for this trip. 

Aloy’s eyes travelled across the sculpted planes of Nil’s abdomen and along the tantalizing faint trail of dark hair leading from his navel down to the thatch of dark curls at his groin. Nil smiled at her unabashed admiration of his body, then submerged himself in the water again as he swam over to the edge of the pool in front of her. “Your gaze is scalding me more thoroughly than this water, Suntress. You sure you don’t want to come in?” 

“I will, I will! I’m just getting used to the-” Aloy gasped with shock as Nil suddenly splashed her. Immediately the water on her skin began to cool, raising goosebumps on her arms. She folded her arms defensively against the cold. “Nil, you chuff! Now I’m freezing!” 

Nil kicked himself forward and braced his hands on either side of her hips, then surged up from the pool, causing a wave of warm water to splash up onto Aloy’s legs. She opened her mouth to protest, but Nil stole her words with a kiss, cradling her neck with one hot hand while he suckled her lower lip gently. 

Aloy leaned into his kiss, but a violent shiver ran down her spine as a cold breeze danced across her skin. She pulled away from Nil’s damp face. “Now I’m soaking wet, you idiot,” she complained. 

“Hmm, that’s what I like to hear,” Nil purred lasciviously. “The wetter, the better.” He sank slowly back into the water and curved the fingers of one hand over her still-clothed thigh. 

Aloy laughed and swatted his wet hand away. “All-Mother’s mercy! You’re so single-minded.” She pulled her feet from the water as Nil chuckled, then stood at the edge of the pool and finally began stripping off her weapons and the rest of her clothes. 

The chill air immediately pocked her skin with goosebumps, and Aloy gasped involuntarily at the cold before leaping into the rainbow pool. The luxurious heat of the water provided immediate relief, and Aloy grinned as she kicked to the surface and poked her head out of the water. 

Nil was watching her with a distinctly predatory look, and Aloy smiled cheekily even as his expression stirred an answering tingling warmth in her groin. “There. I’m in. Are you satisfied now?” she taunted. 

“Not at all. I’m only getting started,” Nil replied matter-of-factly as he slowly began to swim towards her. Teasingly Aloy kicked herself away from him, then simply splashed and dove around in the pool for a time, enjoying the silky warmth of the water over her naked skin. Finally she rose gracefully to the surface and floated on her back just as Nil had done. Her nipples immediately puckered into tight buds at the frigid air, but the contrast between the cold air on her chest and the heat cradling her back was strangely pleasant. 

She folded her arms behind her head as she floated and glanced over at Nil. He had subsided to the edge of the rainbow pool to watch her, his elbows resting casually on the edge of the pool. Half of his chest was exposed to the cold, but as usual, he seemed not to be bothered by the chill.

Fresh heat pulsed between Aloy’s legs as she surveyed the hunger on Nil’s face. The corners of his lips lifted in a half-smile as he caught her gaze. He lifted one hand from the water and wordlessly gestured for her to approach. 

Aloy smiled and shook her head.

Nil’s smile widened, and the heat flared in his silver eyes. “Come here,” he insisted. 

Aloy shook her head again. “You,” she challenged. 

Nil gave a low, dark laugh that made Aloy shiver for reasons more pleasant than the cold, but he stayed where he was. Aloy grinned and submerged herself again, then faced him while she treaded water. 

The playful smile slowly faded from Nil’s lips as Aloy faced him in silent challenge. She bit her lip, unable to look away from the intensity of his gunmetal-grey eyes. The sheer, unadulterated _intention_ in his face was enough to have her breath hitching in her chest. 

Without thinking, Aloy started to swim towards Nil, but she stopped when a half-smile of triumph lit his lips. Her body was pulsing to be close to him, but he was just so damn _smug_. Tension was building between them like the lightning in her Stormslinger, but Aloy could hold out a little bit longer, if only to break his complacency. 

Nil’s eyes widened slightly when she stopped, and Aloy grinned at his surprise; it was rare for her to be the one with more discipline. Sure enough, Nil canted his head down and stared at her as though she was an unruly child. “Come. Here,” he said slowly. 

Aloy shook her head. “I don’t think so.” 

Abruptly Nil shoved away from the edge of the pool. Aloy shrieked with laughter and tried to swim away from him, but he was as fast as he was determined; he penned her against the far side of the small pool, his fingers sinking into the silty rim of the pool as he nipped her shoulder blade. 

Lust surged from her throat in a breathy gasp, and Aloy instinctively craned her neck to the side in a wordless plea for more, but Nil growled against her ear. “Ah, _now_ you’re eager. Not going to play coy with me anymore?” 

“Nope. I give up,” Aloy panted. She braced her own hands on the rim of the pool and quested back in the water towards Nil’s body, eager for the feel of his steely hardness against her bottom, but he floated his lower body away from her, drawing a whimper of need from her lips.

“Turn around,” he commanded, and Aloy eagerly complied. She wrapped her arms around his neck, ignoring the bite of cold on her wet skin, then pressed her breasts to his chest, but still Nil kept his hands stubbornly fixed on the edge of the pool. “Touch me,” Aloy demanded.

Nil smiled a slow, teasing smile. “You,” he whispered. 

Aloy didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her legs around his waist, capturing his cock snugly at the apex of her thighs, then rubbed herself along the sweet length of his erection in one smooth motion. 

She and Nil gasped in tandem as a burst of pleasure arced through her abdomen. She dug her chilled fingers into Nil’s shoulders and eagerly undulated against his cock again, savouring the sweet indirect pressure of his shaft against the bud of her pleasure. 

Nil shuddered and lowered his mouth to Aloy’s damp shoulder. “ _Fuck,_ ” he groaned, then bit at the tendon in her neck. Aloy cried out at the nip of his teeth, then gasped again as she slid along his length, the sweet friction of his cock between her legs fostering the familiar, beautiful blooming of pleasure in her abdomen. She was grateful now that Nil was keeping his hands braced on the edge of the pool, allowing her to thrust against him with wanton abandon. 

But the thrill of Aloy’s frenzied thrusting was being diluted by a much less pleasant sensation. For the umpteenth time, goosebumps blanketed her arms as a cold breeze drifted across her exposed shoulders. Aloy groaned in frustration, then released Nil and submerged herself completely in the water. The water was a scalding but welcome burn against her chilled face and arms, and reluctantly she emerged and shoved her hair back from her face. “Nil, it’s too cold-”

He dragged her back against his body with one hand, and Aloy instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist again, then whimpered with want as Nil roughly tilted her head back with his hand at her throat. “Get out of the pool,” he growled. “We’ll go to the tent. Forget this water. It’s _your_ wet heat I want.” 

His voice was guttural with lust, and a shiver of anticipation ran down her spine. “Okay,” she panted, then dunked her head under the water once more for good measure before lifting herself swiftly to a sitting position at the edge of the pool.

Nil grabbed her thighs before she could pull her legs from the water, then ran his tongue over her clit with a growl of carnal hunger. 

Aloy cried out and clenched her fists in pleasure, even as her whole body began to tremble violently from the cold. She _loved_ the feel of Nil’s hot mouth on her centre, the perfect swirling rhythm of his skillful tongue, but this damn bloody _cold_...

“Nil!” she squeaked through her chattering teeth. “I c-can’t even think - let’s go to the t-tent…” 

Nil lifted his face from the juncture of her thighs and laughed ruefully. “All right, all right, _go._ Get under the blankets. I’ll bring the clothes.”

“Thank you,” Aloy gasped. She hauled herself to her feet and sprinted towards their shelter, but she couldn’t help but grin as Nil’s laughter chased her into the tent. 

It seemed like they’d discovered the only thing that could divert Aloy from a carnal episode: cold weather.

*******************  
Nil heaved himself from the rainbow pool and gathered up the pile of clothing that he and Suntress had carelessly shed, then strolled casually towards the tent, ignoring the needle-sharp pricks of cold from the snow underfoot. Suntress wasn’t wrong; it was fucking freezing out here, but Nil had always found the cold to be an invigorating contrast to the heat of Meridian’s jungle where he’d grown up. 

Nil dropped his and Suntress’s clothes in a heap outside the tent - no point hanging them up as they’d need to dry by a fire - then pushed aside the tent flap and crawled inside. As usual, the tent was already tangibly warmer compared to the outside, but Nil wouldn’t know it from how thoroughly Suntress was bundled in their bedrolls. All he could see of her was the tip of one beaded braid poking out from the fox-fur blanket.

He smirked affectionately, then lifted the corner of the covers and swiftly slid in beside her, and instantly she pressed her body against him.

Her _very_ cold body. 

Goosebumps rippled over Nil’s arms and neck, but he instinctively gathered her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, sliding his hands over her hips and along her back. Her body felt like it was carved from marble, all smooth skin and sculpted muscle enrobed in pale chilled skin, and Nil swallowed a bolt of pure lust as her bare thigh slipped between his legs, even as he started to shiver a bit. 

“How are you still so _warm?_ ” she grumbled against his chest. She slid her hands along his waist, and Nil shivered again at her cold touch.

He ran his palm luxuriously along her spine. “You’re sucking the heat from my skin. I won’t be warm for long. Maybe we should stay in separate corners of the bedroll for now,” he deadpanned. Teasingly he pushed her hands away, then started to roll her off of his chest. 

Suntress huffed in protest. “Oh no you don’t! It’s your fault I’m cold in the first place. It’s your responsibility to warm me up.” She shifted close to Nil again, her chilly fingers sliding over his abs, but Nil snickered and swiftly rolled her onto her back, pinning her wrists over her head and her thighs between his knees.

“My responsibility, is it?” he mocked, and Suntress wriggled impatiently, but her range of movement was limited. She raised one eyebrow at him. “Yes,” she replied firmly. “It’s your responsibility as a husband.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. That wasn’t in my vows,” Nil purred, then ducked his head and ran his tongue over the puckered perfection of her nipple. 

She arched up towards him gracefully, her lips parting with desire, and Nil breathed deeply through the desire that flooded his body and lifted his cock to eager attention. He nuzzled her breast, savouring the feel of her pearled nipple against his lips and cheek, then suckled her firmly, satisfied by the keen of bliss that trembled from her throat. 

Slowly he pulled away to admire the sheen of moisture on her breast, and she squirmed under his grip. “Come on, Nil, heat me up,” she moaned. 

Nil sighed mockingly, even though the rock-hard proudness of his erection gave him away. “All right, all right. I’ve never denied the Stormbird’s call before,” he said, then released her left wrist to slide his hand down towards the apex of her thighs. 

But Suntress suddenly shoved at his shoulder with her freed hand. Nil was caught off guard; in his surprise, he allowed her to push him away, then was thrown off-balance onto his right hip as she wrested her right wrist from his grip and shoved insistently at his shoulders. Before he had a chance to rebalance his weight, she was straddling him, her marble-cool body looming over his as she grabbed his wrists and pinned _him_ to the bedroll. 

Nil stared up at her with helpless carnal anticipation. He knew that Suntress preferred for him to seize control during their erotic encounters, but these rare moments that she claimed dominance never failed to render him witless with desire. Suntress lifted her chin, staring down at him with sheer sensual challenge in her face, and Nil’s heart pounded in his throat; she was so beautiful, so fucking _powerful_ despite her small stature, and her nails biting into his wrists were making the blood surge in his cock… 

Smoothly she slid the wet, slick heat of her labia along the length of his erection, and Nil hissed in a breath of exquisite pleasure. He stared at her navel, at the smooth rolling motion of her hips as she graced him with her moisture, his ears attuned to the whimpering pants of her breath. The rolling of her hips began to gain speed, and Nil’s eyes flew to her face, his desperation rising as she undulated against him. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted in ecstasy, and Nil knew she didn’t _mean_ to tease him - his Suntress was rarely coy when in the throes of her pleasure - but the heat of her feminine lips against his shaft was the worst kind of tease: the heavenly bliss of her sweet pussy was so close to his manhood, and yet too far for her tight heat to embrace him.

As though she could hear his desperate thoughts, she suddenly opened her eyes and gazed down at him. Her hazel eyes were feverish with need as she spoke. “Do you still want to taste me?” she breathed, her voice rough with lust. 

“Fuck _yes,_ ” Nil blurted, and bucked his hips eagerly to punctuate his reply. She gasped at the thrust of his cock, then swiftly crawled up his body until she was kneeling over his face, her knees bracketing his head.

Nil gripped her thighs eagerly. His mouth was watering already at the warm and consummately organic scent of her flesh. “Come closer,” he ordered, and Suntress complied, sliding her knees apart until her feminine heat was within reach of his lips. 

Nil didn’t hesitate. He kissed the apex of her thighs with the same enthusiasm as he would kiss her mouth, his lips embracing the taut little bud between her legs as his tongue gently slid over its round firmness. 

Suntress moaned in ecstasy, and Nil couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the exquisite sound even as he continued to slide his tongue and lips over her slick pussy. He _loved_ the taste of her, the feel of her labia against his lips like a gentle kiss, the swollen little bundle of her clit pushing back against his tongue. He loved how her scent lingered in his facial hair afterward until he washed his face, a smug reminder of her pleasure at the tip of his tongue.

Vaguely he noticed that she had taken hold of the arched strut that supported the rear of their tent in order to hold herself upright. Reluctantly he lessened the pressure of his lips between her legs so he could taunt her. “Be careful, Suntress. Don’t pull the tent down.” 

“Fire and spit, Nil, don’t _stop!_ ” she gasped, and bucked her hips demandingly. Nil snickered, then resumed his labour of love, gripping her thighs more firmly in his hands as he slid his tongue along the length of her labia, then swirling his tongue around her clit again in a careful open-mouthed kiss. While he licked her sweet heat, he gazed up at her, admiring the hard planes of her pale belly as they swelled into the rounded peaks of her breasts. Her fists clenched convulsively on the tent struts, and she leaned her head back with bliss, exposing the taut tendons in her neck. 

“Nil- I’m going to… oh Goddess…!” Suntress arched her back more insistently, lifting those gorgeous breasts even higher, then her whole body shuddered convulsively as she reached her peak. Nil continued the swirling rhythm of his tongue around her clit until her posture began to loosen from the tense arching of her climax. 

As soon as she released the struts of the tent, Nil shifted her knee so he could slide out from under her, then swiftly flipped Suntress onto her back. Her skin was hot and damp with sweat, her body loose and languid with pleasure. Nil smoothly lifted her bottom and slid her underneath his body, then lowered his mouth to taste the salt of her neck. She cupped her palm around the back of his head as he brushed his lips over her ear.

“Are you warm enough now, Suntress?” he whispered. 

“Not quite,” she breathed. She opened her eyes and smiled slowly at him. “You know, the best way to get warm is to keep moving.” She braced her feet on the bedroll and lifted her hips temptingly towards his groin. 

For once, Nil didn’t tease her; his cock was still throbbing eagerly from when she’d ridden him, spreading her heat over his cock, and Nil didn’t waste his breath replying. Eagerly he lowered his hand between her legs, savouring the combined slickness from his mouth and her own juices against his fingers. Swiftly he lifted her knees and braced her legs over his forearms for deeper access, then slid into her in one smooth, hard stroke. 

_Fucking perfection._ No other source of heat, no geyser or rainbow pool, could ever compare to the first hot thrust of his cock inside of this woman. Suntress was warmth and fire personified, her smooth tightness sheathing his shaft so exquisitely, and Nil gasped involuntarily as a ripple of pleasure immediately took root in his abdomen. Slowly he withdrew from her body, then pumped himself back inside of her, enjoying the breathy mewl of enjoyment that floated from her lips. 

Nil gritted his teeth at the effort of going slow; he wanted to prolong this bout, to fuck her for as long as possible, but she was so damn appealing that he was losing the battle for self-control. 

Then she arched her breasts towards him and threw her head to the side. “Nil, please,” she whined insistently.

Nil’s discipline shattered at the broken, pleasured tone of her voice. Abruptly he bit her exposed neck, then gripped her hair in his fist. She gasped with pain and pleasure as he hissed in her ear. “I want to fuck you _hard._ I’ll get you as hot as an Oseram forgefire. Will you allow this?”

She nodded vigorously and dug her nails into his forearms, and Nil hissed as she scored his skin. “Yes,” she gasped, then she shoved hastily at his chest. “But get up. Lean back. I want…” 

She trailed off as Nil released her and sat back on his knees. He watched with shameless admiration as she flipped onto her hands and knees, then leaned forward on her elbows, exposing her luscious ass to him. She looked over her shoulder invitingly. “Okay,” she panted. “Now come on. Make good on your promises, Carja.” 

Nil bared his teeth in a feral grin, then grabbed her hips and slammed his cock deep into her. 

Her scream of rapture was muffled by the fur-insulated walls of the tent, but this didn’t stop Nil from enjoying the sound. Swiftly and relentlessly he drove himself into her, enjoying the slapping sound of skin against skin as his pelvis met the yielding roundness of her ass and the sound of her cries, muffled against the bedroll. His climax was building again, blossoming into life at his core and extending delicate tendrils of pleasure out towards his abdomen and his limbs, but he didn’t want to reach it alone. 

He leaned forward and curved his arm around Suntress’s hip so he could roll the pad of his index finger over her clit. She jolted, her fists clenching in the bedroll as a fresh keen of pleasure resonated from her throat. 

“You’re coming with me,” Nil growled against the skin of her back. “Tell me what you want.” 

Her answer was immediate. “Touch me and go slow,” she whimpered. 

Nil happily obeyed, thrusting slow and deep as he carefully rolled his finger around the swollen nub of her pleasure. Her breathing deepened, shuddering into her ribs and through her back against the skin of Nil’s chest, then she gave another instruction. “Grind into me. Go deep,” she panted. 

Nil smiled; he loved her confident demands and her confidence in his ability to give her exactly what she wanted. He held fast with his cock deep inside of her and circled his hips slowly while continuing to swirl his finger over her clit. 

“ _Yes._ That’s- fire and spit, _yes…_ ” Suddenly she couldn’t speak anymore, her words cut off by the sharpness of her own breaths, and Nil continued to grind slowly inside of her, rubbing sweetly around her clit, and he listened with rapt attention until she gave a huge gasp.

“Nil - fuck me _hard!_ ” she screamed, her voice catching on a sob of pleasure. Nil gripped her hips firmly and obeyed with vicious pleasure, slamming his cock into her tight silken heat with single-minded purpose. 

Suntress cried out and clawed at the back of her own neck with her nails, and immediately Nil took the hint; he continued to fuck her hard, but reached up and scored his own fingernails carefully along the length of her back. 

She arched her back and cried out again, and then suddenly she was shoving back against his cock, meeting him thrust for thrust with animalistic fury. Nil couldn’t help himself; he laughed, his voice rough with lust, then wrapped his arms around her waist as he pumped into her with equal ferocity. “Your teeth are showing, Stormbird,” he hissed. “You’re like a beast on the hunt.” 

She bucked back against him forcefully then glanced over her shoulder at him, and Nil grinned; her teeth were actually bared, making her look more feral than ever. “I can read between the lines,” she panted roughly. “Are you calling me a savage?”

Nil scraped his nails along her back again, and the sharp keen of bliss that left her lips was a symphony to his ears. “Only when you’re here with me,” he growled. “I love seeing you set loose in the eye of this storm, Suntress. There’s no one here but us animals.” 

She let out a wild laugh, then suddenly pulled away from him and turned on her knees to face him. “Animals, are we?” she said, her green-and-gold eyes sparking with heat and humour, then she was straddling him, sinking onto his cock with her blissfully tight heat, and Nil groaned in ecstasy. She pressed her lips to his ear. “Animals don’t talk,” she whispered.

Nil couldn’t reply; he had no breath, no wits, no clever quips at the tip of his tongue. Everything was stolen by the hard rhythm of her luscious hips as she rode him hard, her nails gouging into his shoulders so she could lever herself more firmly against his hips. His climax was screaming forth, nurtured by her towering dominance, and suddenly he was gasping and groaning as the pleasure surged viciously in his abdomen, shoving out towards his chest and his calves and leaving him spasming helplessly under the rocking of her hips. 

Nil fell back on the bedroll, boneless and spent, and gasped for breath. Suntress gradually slowed to a stop and rested her hands on his abdomen, her chest heaving as she panted for air as well. Then she collapsed on top of him, blanketing his chest with the damp, fragrant flames of her hair. 

Nil contentedly ran his fingers through her tresses until his breathing slowed. “I’m burnt to ashes, Suntress. You could teach a Scorcher lessons with the fury of your blazefire.” 

She laughed breathily and lifted her head to smile cheekily at him. “Such compliments,” she teased, then slowly rolled off of him and snuggled at his side. She tapped his chin playfully. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Nil scoffed arrogantly. “I should think not, given how you were squirming against my tongue. Ah, those sharp cries, more piercing and more exquisite than a precision arrow… and that sweet taste blooming from your-” 

“Okay, okay!” she laughed, and Nil grinned as her cheeks turned pink. She propped her head on her fist and bit her lip before smiling at him again. “You keep up this sweet talk and I’m going to ask for a repeat performance.”

He ran one finger over her flushed cheek. “You don’t need to ask. A repeat performance is exactly what I want.” Swiftly he rolled her onto her back, pinning her beneath his body.

She laughed again, but pushed gently at his chest. “Wait, wait! I have to do something first.”

Nil raised one eyebrow. “What else could you possibly have to do than this?”

She grinned at him then slid out from under his body, and to Nil’s total surprise, she pushed open the tent flap and fled from the tent.

Nil followed her out incredulously, then chuckled as he watched her sprint towards the rainbow pool and dive in with wild grace. He strolled through the powdery snow until he reached the edge of the pool just in time to see her pop her head up from the surface of the water. 

She slicked the hair back from her face with both hands, and Nil grinned helplessly at her; the vibrant ripples of the polychromatic water surged around her naked body, and she was the brightest damn thing in the pool. 

“Well? Are you coming in?” she yelled, her eyes blazing with excitement and happiness. Nil didn’t waste his breath replying; without hesitation, he dove into the pool to join her.

After all, he’d never been one to refuse the Stormbird’s cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The datapoint referenced in this oneshot is [here.](http://horizonzerodawn.wikia.com/wiki/Proposal_Approved!)
> 
> Happy New Year, ya'll!! xoxo


	12. Poetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aloy and Nil discuss Aloy's love for metal flowers and their mysterious poetry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter starts out in the Cut, but there are basically no spoilers for the DLC.  
> NSFW smut and also feels.

**Late afternoon, in the Cut…**

Aloy launched herself onto the last handhold, then tugged herself onto the flat peak of the mountain ridge and smiled at Nil, who hauled himself up beside her. He pushed his hood back and swiped a hand over his forehead, then smirked at her faintly. 

“All this effort for a sunset, Suntress? I’m surprised at you,” he said. 

“It’s not just for the sunset! We’ll grab that pigment for Sekuli on the way,” she replied pertly. “The sunset’s a bonus.” She pulled the fox-fur blanket from the pack on Nil’s back and spread it on the snowy ground, then sat facing west with her knees pulled up to her chest. 

But Nil didn’t sit beside her right away. Aloy glanced up quizzically to find him peering along the mountain ridge towards the south with narrowed eyes.

“What is it?” Aloy asked.

“I think… it’s one of those metal flowers you like so much,” Nil said slowly. 

Aloy’s eyebrows jumped high in surprise, and she stood hastily. “A metal flower? _Here?_ ” She’d seen some hearty cold-weather flowers closer to Song’s Edge, but it was positively frigid up in the mountains, and Aloy hadn’t imagined that any plants other than conifers would be found at these altitudes. 

Nil stepped up behind her and pointed to an adjacent peak, connected to the one they were on by a rope bridge. “There,” he said quietly into her ear. “At the end of that bridge. It’s a triangle of flowers, isn’t it?”

Aloy gazed carefully in the direction he indicated, and a slow smile lit her face. She looked up at Nil excitedly. “I think you’re right. Come on, let’s check it out!” 

Nil’s indulgent huff of amusement followed her as she hurried to the rope bridge, then quickly skirted her way along the rope. She hopped off the bridge and watched fondly as Nil crept along the tightrope considerably more slowly. Aloy had been clambering along rope bridges on the brave trails since she was a child, but Nil had really only started using them when he began travelling with her. Tightrope walking was the only activity where Aloy had ever seen him looking less than arrogantly confident. 

Finally he reached the end of the bridge and hopped off the bridge in a crouched position, then raised an eyebrow at her as he rose to his feet. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

She grinned up at him, then playfully pulled his hood back up. “You’re cute when you creep,” she teased. 

Nil snorted imperiously and tugged one of her braids. “ _Cute._ You wouldn’t dare call me _cute_ three years ago.”

Aloy laughed and swatted his hand away. “You’re right about that. You were just creepy then.” 

Nil smiled slowly at her, then snatched her around the waist and lifted her off her feet. Aloy squealed with laughter, the sound of her mirth echoing over the mountaintop as Nil buried his cold nose against her neck. “Find me a bandit and you’ll see how _cute_ I am,” he growled, and nipped her ear. 

Aloy wiggled in Nil’s arms as his teeth grazed her skin. “All right, all right! You’re very fearsome,” she snickered. “Now put me down. I want that flower.” 

He sighed in resignation, then released her. “Time has softened my murderous mystique, it seems. I can’t even intimidate little Nora huntresses anymore.” He smirked teasingly at her. “I’ll have to hone my knife and bow, replenish my image. A fresh rust of blood should do the trick, don’t you think?”

Aloy rolled her eyes and shoved him. They both knew Aloy had never found him intimidating in the same way that everyone else did. “Don’t worry, Nil. You still have other talents.” She winked raunchily, then trotted over to the triangular pattern of flowers in the snow. 

Aloy crouched down to examine the flowers with interest. They were visibly different than the usual flowers that made up these mysterious triangles. The flowers still boasted pink petals, but they were small and sort of bell-shaped, with firm knife-shaped leaves instead of the usual tender leaves she was used to seeing. 

Gently she stroked the petals of one flower as Nil padded over to her side. “They’re different than usual,” she told him softly. “Look at these leaves. They’re kind of like the late-winter flowers that grow in the Sacred Lands.” She gazed up at Nil with shining eyes. “It’s like whatever put these metal flowers here made sure that they would survive the cold. That’s… amazing.” 

He gave her a faint smile, and Aloy’s cheeks warmed at the obvious fondness in his gaze. He tucked one of her braids behind her ear and nodded his head towards the metal flower. “Scan it,” he said. 

Carefully Aloy stepped into the center of the pattern, and the delicate metal contraption opened with a soft _clink_. She scanned the metal flower with her Focus, then gently lifted it with both hands, brushing the snow away from its base. 

She turned to Nil, who tapped his Focus off as he finished scanning the flower as well, and smiled expectantly at him. One night in Meridian before Aloy had sold the majority of her metal flower collection to Kudiv, she’d written all the poems out by hand and asked Nil to read them to her. She’d just wanted an excuse to listen to his voice, but to her enormous delight he had indulged her, and that night remained one of her favourite memories from the first year of their relationship.

Nil sighed and shook his head fondly, then tapped his Focus again and read the poem out loud:

> He comes when she least expects him,  
>  like a lover, out of night into morning.  
>  When he flies by her window she thinks she hears thunder  
>  and puts her hands to her face. She does not see  
>  his shadow melt into the snow.
> 
> He waits in the corner of her garden.  
>  She trembles on the threshold, unable  
>  to go there, to step inside his wings.
> 
> White on white, feathers like silk,  
>  the head turns slowly. In winter  
>  dreams hide beneath blankets, only the eyelids glow  
>  like yellow chrysanthemums. At last she sees  
>  how fire burns from within the steps forward.  
>  His eyes ignite, the flame rises.

Aloy stood quietly, her brow furrowed as she contemplated what Nil had just read. She liked this poem, but she didn’t fully understand it. As was often the case with the metal flowers, Aloy had a sense of the emotional tone of the poem, but there seemed to be more to it than the simple words, some second layer that was hidden to her.

She looked up at Nil. “What does it mean?” 

Nil raised one eyebrow as he tapped his Focus off. “What do _you_ think it means?”

Aloy twisted her lips thoughtfully. “It’s about… a bird. A winter bird. Maybe an owl? But…” She hesitated, rolling the words around in her mind. Unconsciously she lifted her hand to her throat; a vague sense of wistfulness was caught there, like cotton fibre snagged on an errant twig. “There’s something more though.” She looked at Nil questioningly. 

He shrugged, and Aloy smiled fondly at him. She carefully folded the flower’s petal together and tucked it in one of her pouches, then stepped out of the triangle of flowers and poked Nil gently in the abs. “Come on, tell me what you think. I want to know.” Nil had been forced to study poetry as a child, and though he’d hated it, clearly the lessons had stuck; he had an uncanny knack for deciphering the prose in the metal flowers, more than Aloy ever had. 

Nil scratched his chin in a bored manner. “It’s a love poem,” he said dismissively. 

Aloy raised her eyebrows, then tapped her Focus and silently read the poem again. Now that he’d said it, it was obvious; she wasn't sure how she’d missed it during the first reading.

She tapped her Focus and smiled up at Nil with a combination of amusement and affection. For a man whose genuine words of love fell so easily from his lips, he certainly disdained those words when they related to anyone who wasn’t her. She slid her arms around his neck and bumped her nose against his. “Well, I love these poems. And I love you,” she murmured.

Nil pulled her close, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile. “I’m prioritized after the poems, I see. At least I know my place.” 

Aloy laughed softly. “Well, you _did_ try to seduce me with a metal flower. It’s your own fault.” 

Nil brushed his lips against her earlobe. “Try?” he whispered. “I didn’t _try._ I _won._ ” 

Aloy grinned, then melted unabashedly into the heat of Nil’s kiss. There was no point pretending he was anything other than right. 

*******************

**Three months later, back in the Sundom…**

Aloy scrabbled down the steep edge of the mesa, then patted the rock dust from her knees. Nil was already crouched by the sandy shore, filling her Oseram flask with water. 

She walked over beside him and gazed across the channel towards the warm orange glow at Kestrel’s Perch. Their goal was to climb the Rustwash Tallneck tomorrow so Aloy could install a particular piece of hardware. This was the next step towards setting up the Focus network for her and Nil. It was already past sunset, however, so they’d decided to set up camp on the southern side of the channel for the night instead of crossing the channel in the dark. 

Nil screwed the cap onto her flask, then stood as he handed it to her. “Do you want to rest here, or move a little further east?”

“I want to go west, actually. Along that peninsula,” Aloy replied, and pointed in the direction she meant. “We picked up a metal flower over there once, remember? I want to check on the flowers it left behind.”

Nil raised one eyebrow ruefully. “There’s also a pack of Snapmaws over that way.”

Aloy folded her arms and lifted her chin. “So we’ll draw them over here and take them out. Then any Glinthawks or Scrappers that come sniffing around will be interested in the Snapmaws, not us.” 

Nil smiled slowly at her. “Just admit it, Suntress: you’re craving the hunt. The lure of that thick, fragrant machine blood is clamouring in your veins. You don’t have to hide your urges from me.” 

Aloy smirked as she began setting tripwires and blast traps. “Uh-huh. Are you going to help me, or are you going to stand there like live bait? Either option works for me…” 

Nil snorted and assisted her, then they each slid into a separate patch of tall grass. They snuck silently towards the three Snapmaws that were lazily sunning themselves on the shoreline. 

Aloy gave a low, soft whistle, and two of the Snapmaws’ headlights snapped from placid blue to the yellow of alarm. Quietly and patiently, she and Nil eased back in the grass while throwing the occasional rock and whistling, until all three Snapmaws were lured within range of their traps. 

Then Aloy stood upright and shot three fire arrows in quick succession at the blaze canisters near the Snapmaws’ shoulders. She and Nil watched with satisfaction as the Snapmaws’ blaze canisters burst into flame, then they darted around the traps they’d set, taunting the Snapmaws into each trap one by one. When the traps were all tripped and the Snapmaws were sparking with heavy damage, Nil picked off two of the Snapmaws with swift precision arrows while Aloy slid up beside the last and tied it down with her ropecaster, then overrode it swiftly. 

She stood with satisfaction and cut the placid Snapmaw free. Nil smirked as he slung his arm around her shoulders. “A guard?”

Aloy nodded in satisfaction. “Exactly. Now we can really rest.” She slid out from under his arm, then tugged his hand impatiently. “Come on - let’s go check out those flowers!”

Together they jogged around the shoreline to the most secluded tip of the peninsula, and sure enough, the triangle of lush pink flowers was there. 

Aloy slowed down as she approached the triangle, then knelt and brushed her fingers gently over the petals. “I love that these triangles are here year after year,” she said to Nil. “DEMETER… The subfunction that made them… it must have planned for these flowers to grow back every year. And it would have had to plan for those flowers in the Cut to survive the cold…” She smiled up at him. “A _nice_ subfunction. One that wants to make things grow instead of… destroying them. Makes for a nice change.” 

“A nice change, perhaps, but not much of a challenge,” Nil replied mildly.

Aloy gave him a mock-chiding look as she helped him spread one of their bedrolls out flat in the center of the triangle. “I, for one, have had enough _challenge_ for a while. I’ll take the peace while I can get it.” Unwittingly she thought of Sylens, and a little needle of anxiety pierced her contentment as she wondered for the billionth time what he was up to. 

She forced herself to push the thought away. There was no point ruminating on it until the network was set up, and then she could try to figure out what Sylens was doing. 

Together she and Nil set up their temporary camp in silence; Aloy built a small fire by the shoreline while Nil captured a trout and spitted it to roast. Aloy dug out the maize-bread and dried figs from her pouches, and they ate together quietly while listening to the crickets chirping and scraping and the crackle of the fire. 

When their meal was done, Aloy rose from the fire and sat on the bedroll in the middle of the flower triangle with a little sigh. 

Nil joined her, and they lay on their backs together to look up at the stars. “What’s the matter, Suntress?” Nil asked quietly. 

Aloy sighed again. She didn’t want to interrupt a perfectly pleasant evening with nagging worries, but she’d never been able to hide her feelings from Nil. She was loathe to tell him yet again that she was worrying about Sylens, though. It never seemed to bother or annoy Nil to rehash her concerns, but _she_ was getting sick of always thinking and talking about it. 

Instead, she mentioned an inconsequential but genuine bother. “Sometimes I wish there were more metal flowers,” she said. 

Nil looked at her in surprise. “Why?”

Aloy shrugged self-consciously and folded her arms behind her head. “I liked the mystery,” she replied. “And they always had a surprise inside. Those poems. It was like a little gift.” She rolled onto her side to face Nil and propped her cheek on her fist. “Maybe DEMETER will make more. I wonder why it stopped making them at all.”

“Maybe it hasn’t. Maybe we just need to travel farther,” Nil reasoned. “You didn’t expect to find one in the Cut.” He smiled slowly at her. “I think we need to go on a second honeymoon.”

Aloy smiled back and tenderly smoothed a lock of hair back from his forehead. “Maybe you’re right,” she murmured. “I’ve never been to the Claim.” She bit her lip and waited.

“Oh, fuck the Claim,” Nil riposted immediately, as Aloy knew he would. She snickered as Nil rolled towards her and pinned her on her back between his forearms. “If it’s mysteries you want, we should go to the Forbidden West,” he announced. “We’ll survive its alleged horrors and bring back stories.”

Aloy grinned cheekily as Nil cradled her face in his hands. “It’s supposed to be dangerous out west. Monsters and cannibals and vast sandy wastelands…” 

Nil lowered his face and brushed his lips lightly over hers. “You forget, I’m dangerous too,” he whispered. “And so are you. We’ll return unscathed and leave a victorious trail of viscera in our wake.”

Aloy snickered, then gasped and arched unconsciously towards Nil as he nipped her lower lip. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?” she breathed. 

“I do,” he purred smugly. “I’m _so_ disgusting.” Then he kissed her. 

Aloy blissfully slid her hands into Nil’s hair, then wrapped one leg over his waist as they kissed. To her surprise and disappointment, he lifted his face and gently disentangled himself from her embrace. “By the way, I have a datapoint for you,” he said. 

Aloy sat up on her elbows and raised her eyebrows. “It can’t wait until after...?” 

Nil shrugged, then tapped his Focus as Aloy did the same. “You mentioned your metal flowers, and I didn’t want to forget.” 

Immediately Aloy’s curiosity was piqued, and she wasted no time in selecting the datapoint he’d sent her. 

It was a scanned poem, scrawled in a slashing yet tidy penmanship. She looked at Nil with rising disbelief. “You… you wrote a poem? _You?_ ” 

He shrugged casually, then smirked at her as he lay on his back again. 

Aloy gaped at him speechlessly. Then finally her voice deigned to return. “When did you do this?” she asked incredulously.

“When we were in Meridian a few nights ago. After we went out to that noisy fucking Oseram pub with Erend and Talanah.” He tucked his arms behind his head comfortably. “You were asleep.”

Aloy’s eyebrows crept further towards her hairline as she eyed him. It was true that she’d collapsed into bed almost immediately after returning to their little suite in the palace that night, but she hadn’t thought that Nil had stayed up to write _poetry_. She opened her mouth to ask more questions, but realized she wasn’t sure what to say. 

He was gazing unconcernedly up at the night sky, so Aloy turned her attention to the poem he’d written.

> Rend the sky, peel back the clouds  
>  Find the steel that sparks beneath  
>  Drag the beasts from their iron depths and slam them flat  
>  When glassy eyes glow red, you will know
> 
> Throw tendrils into earth, delve deep  
>  Claw everything back and grind it down  
>  Plug the abyss with blood and flesh: send her forth  
>  When dawn of day rises red, you will know
> 
> Pull the bowstring tight and breathe  
>  Let none remain to tell the tale  
>  The time is drawing near: lightning swells on the horizon  
>  When their filthy sockets leak red, you will know
> 
> Fire and rage snap through the air  
>  The world would fall at her feet if she willed it so  
>  Trace her path, wait and watch  
>  When the heart pounds hard and red, you will know
> 
> When all you see is red, you will know  
>  Hold tightly and never let go

Aloy sat still as a statue, frozen with emotion and disbelief. She read the poem three more times before tapping her Focus off and turning to stare at Nil with wide eyes.

“It’s… Is it about me?” she whispered. 

He sat up leisurely, then flicked back a lock of her hair as he reached for the wax-cloth of dried figs beside her. “Of course. What else would it be about?”

She swallowed hard. Her hands were clenched in her lap, and suddenly she wished she had a paper copy of the poem he’d written, something physical and concrete that she could praise with her fingers since her words refused to come. “Why?” she finally asked. “You hated learning about poetry. Why write one?”

Nil shrugged and popped a fig in his mouth. “You like those metal flower poems. So I wrote one for you.” He raised one eyebrow sardonically as he chewed. “Why, you don’t like it?” He smirked. 

“No, it’s not that,” Aloy said hastily. “I… I _love_ it. I just…” The truth was that she felt unworthy of this offering. The differences between her and Nil had always amused her: on the hunting fields, her silent stealth contrasted starkly with his chaotic violence. But in the intimacy of their private lives where words were key, Aloy was as subtle as a child wielding a mace, while Nil was as smooth and sharp as the finest rapier, cutting to the heart of her with such beautiful grace. And now…

Now, Nil had offered her a _poem_. A poem he’d written in his own hand, a gift worthy of a metal flower. And Aloy’s pragmatic mind was too blunt to tease it apart. 

Suddenly she straddled his hips and took his face in her hands, her fingers cradling his neck as she gazed into his savage beautiful face. She loved him so much it was painful. He was everything, _everything,_ and suddenly it seemed tragic that she’d never find the words big enough to tell him so. 

Nil immediately slid his hands around her waist. His expression was quizzical as he examined her face. “What’s wrong?” he asked. 

Aloy stroked his cheekbones with her thumbs. “You’re so smart,” she blurted. 

Nil chuckled. “Suntress, a river of Scrappersap will wash the inhibitions from even the most brutal mind. The slurred scribbles of a drunken killer are hardly worthy of praise.” He shrugged and tweaked one of her braids. “I just thought it would amuse you.” 

But Aloy was not amused. She tilted his chin up and gazed seriously into his silver eyes. The blankness of his pale gaze was a flawless facade, an impeccable mask hiding his depths from the rest of the world, but Aloy saw through it. She was the only one Nil had ever _permitted_ to see through it, and he didn’t even know - or seem to care - that there were depths there at all. 

“You _are_ smart, Nil. You’re so much more than a killer. How many times…” She took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure why she was suddenly so emotional, but it felt imperative for him to hear her this time, for him to _believe_ her when she told him he was more than just a brute. “This poem… it’s not just drunken ramblings. It’s… I mean… I couldn’t write something like that if my life depended on it. And it’s not _just_ about me, is it?” The first verse of the poem in particular picked at her brain. It was oddly reminiscent of the kind of thing Brin would say. 

Nil gave her a chiding look and squeezed her waist playfully. “Everything is about you,” he told her, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. He smoothed his hand tenderly along her hairline, then slowly and gently twined his fingers in the hair at the base of her neck. “And I have some more _poetry_ to recite to you, if you liked that one so much.”

His voice was low and persuasive, and Aloy cursed her traitorous body’s instinctive blooming at his charged tone. She wanted to talk about this, but her body had other ideas. “I’m _not_ everything. I’m just...” she started, but her protest was weak; Nil’s other hand was sliding around her back and down, cupping her bottom slowly but firmly in a thorough distraction.

“Do you want to hear my poetry or not?” Nil whispered, and Aloy bit the inside of her cheek as his fingers tightened slightly in her hair. Her earlier desire was heating beneath her skin, stoked by the smooth tone of his voice. She nodded in silent agreement.

Nil lifted his chin, and his gentle command slid along her jawline like silk. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” Aloy breathed. Before the word had fully escaped her lips, Nil wrapped an arm around her waist and rolled, pinning her to the ground beneath his body. She gasped as he slid one hot hand from her knee up along her thigh.

Then Nil began to speak. “I’m going to strip you bare. I’ll reveal your golden skin and stare until you’re panting.” He unbuckled her vest, and Aloy eagerly lifted her shoulders to shuck the garment. He pushed up her cropped blouse and studied her body, his eyes hot and greedy as they slid from navel to nipples. Aloy bit unconsciously at her lower lip; she could practically feel his gaze on her body like a caress, bringing her nipples to painful attention. 

Nil moved his fingers down to her pouch belt without touching her skin, and Aloy couldn’t stop herself from writhing slightly with impatience as he undressed her, pulling off her clothes with swift efficiency until she was naked except for her blouse. She stared pleadingly at Nil as he continued to peruse her body with torturous slowness. By the time his eyes landed on the patch of curls between her legs, Aloy _knew_ from the insistent pulse of heat at the apex of her thighs that she was positively dripping with desire. 

Nil suddenly smirked at her, and Aloy realized she was panting, her breaths coming short and sharp. Then Nil spoke again. 

“I’m going to run my fingers over your nipples. I’ll trace them with my tongue until you bend your back like a bow and beg.” He was as good as his word; slowly he reached up and ran one finger around the swell of her right breast, his thumb skimming her nipple before he leaned down and smoothed the flat of his tongue over her breast. 

Aloy mewled with desire and jerked convulsively towards him, then whimpered as he pulled away. He rolled her left nipple gently between his fingers, then suckled her firmly, pulling a sudden cry from her throat, followed immediately by a whine of frustration as he backed away. His touch was utterly controlled, meted out carefully in order to torture her, and Aloy couldn’t stop herself from falling into his trap; as he sat back on his heels, she arched helplessly towards him. “Nil, please,” she gasped.

He smirked again. “I’m going to taste the nectar between your legs. I’ll lick that sweet pussy until you sing for me,” he informed her. His words were musing and melodic, a stark contrast to the feral hunger in his face. Aloy barely had time to gasp an emphatic affirmative before Nil slid down her body and shoved her knees up, burying his face between her thighs. 

_Yes._ Aloy clenched her fingers mindlessly in the bedroll as Nil slicked his hot tongue over her clit in smooth, firm strokes. Her climax was rising so sharply that it seemed almost unfair, and an obstinate part of her mind almost wanted to Nil to stop, to pull back and tease her, draw this out for longer so she could revel in it, but it was too late: his tongue was too clever, her desire too acute-

Suddenly Nil stopped and raised his demonic silver eyes to her face.

Aloy fisted her fingers in her own hair and _pulled_ as her thwarted climax crumbled, sending a fresh surge of absolute desperation through her body. This was what she’d wanted, but at the same time it _wasn’t_ \- she wanted him too badly, and the sheer wanting was _torture._ She keened with dismay and jerked her hips towards his face. “ _Nil! Please,_ ” she begged. “Please, please, I can’t, I need-” 

She cried out uninhibitedly as Nil slid one finger inside of her and stroked in a circular motion. He lowered his lips back to her heat, and Aloy was _lost,_ awash with mindless pleasure, her pulse beating between her legs in time with the swirling of his tongue. His mouth was so hot, the pressure of his finger inside of her so perfect, and finally Aloy shattered, her visceral cry of pleasure released to the sky before she had the presence of mind to muffle herself. 

As she shuddered and gasped in completion, Nil laughed triumphantly, then roughly wiped his face on his hand. “I’m going to make you mine. I’ll fuck you hard and deep until you tear your pleasure from me with claws and teeth,” he growled. His fingers tugged roughly at his belt and tassets, and Aloy stared at him, dazed with pleasure and anticipation as he stretched his body over hers. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and drove into her with one hard thrust. 

Her scream was met by his tongue in her mouth, her head pulled back and her throat exposed as he tugged her hair. Nil’s hips slammed against her in a hard, unyielding rhythm, and Aloy grabbed his hair in return and thrust her tongue against his, uncaring about the lack of finesse in their kiss; she just wanted to taste him, take in every part of him, make him _hers_ as surely as he was claiming her. 

Then Nil pulled her right hand from his hair and pushed it down between their bodies. He tore his lips from hers. “Touch yourself,” he growled. 

Aloy obeyed, smoothing her fingers around the periphery of her achingly tender bud with delicate strokes, and Nil immediately slowed his pace to a slow, deep thrust. Aloy squeezed her eyes shut, every scrap of her attention on the sensation between her thighs. Nil’s cock was slow and sure, coaxing one brand of pleasure from the bundle of nerves deep inside of her, and her muscles began to tense in delicious anticipation as the second fizzling brand of pleasure from her clit began to build anew. 

Nil panted against her lips, their hot breath mingling as Aloy’s entire body tensed in sensual suspense. Then she threw her head back and gasped, “ _Now!_ ” 

Nil slammed his cock into her _hard_ , and Aloy slammed her left fist against the ground and cried out as Nil drove into her with a fast, desperate speed. She was consumed with rapture, her climax rolling over her hot and uncontrollable as blazefire, and still she wanted _more_.

Her leg over Nil’s shoulder was a hindrance. It thwarted her control. Aloy slid her leg down and shoved wordlessly at his arm so she could lower her leg. She wrapped her leg around his waist and braced her other foot on the ground, then bucked violently against him, eagerly accepting his cock to fuck him harder and faster. She scored his arms with her nails, and Nil bit her neck with a groan.

Aloy snarled and pulled her shoulder away, then reared up and viciously bit the juncture of Nil’s neck and shoulder. He gasped brokenly, and Aloy redoubled her efforts, slamming the cradle of her hips against his with greater ardency until he shuddered and panted his rapture against her skin.

Aloy heaved a huge, exhausted sigh and wrapped her arms around Nil’s neck. His chest was hot and damp, their skin sticking together from the ferocity of their exertions, but Aloy was beyond caring. 

Nil’s lips grazed her ear in a gentle kiss. “So?” he rumbled. “Which piece of _poetry_ did you prefer?” 

His voice was mocking but tender at the same time, and Aloy laughed tiredly. She knew he was smug at having diverted her. But instead of answering his question, she turned her lips to his sweaty cheek and stroked his neck gently. “I adore you,” she whispered. “Every single little scrap of you.” 

It wasn’t enough. The paltry words that came to her lips were never quite enough. But as always, Nil didn’t seem to mind. He lifted himself onto his elbows and gazed down at her, all evidence of cheekiness gone from his face as he stroked his thumb along the edge of her face. “Every scrap of me thrills for you, Suntress,” he murmured. “Every drop of blood and sweat sings for you. Don’t ever forget it.” 

Aloy nodded. She couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat. She lifted herself slightly and kissed him, grateful for the chance to circumvent her clumsy words and show him what she felt with the press of her lips.

Nil returned her kiss passionately, his hands cradling her neck with infinite care, and Aloy melted peacefully into his embrace. Someday she’d find the words to tell Nil what he meant to her. Maybe she’d even try her hand at writing it out someday.

But for now, there was no more need for words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things:  
> 1\. No, there were no metal flowers in the Cut - I just decided to put one there :) Wishful thinking!  
> 2\. [This is the spot where Aloy and Nil settle for the night in this oneshot.](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/post/169400076478/light-of-the-moon-moves-west-flowers-shadows)  
> 2\. The first poem in this oneshot is an excerpt from a poem called "Winter Poem/The Snowy Owl” by Judith Minty. The second poem (the one written by Nil) is original. Not that it’s worthy of a metal flower or anything like that, but, you know, Aloy thinks it is for story purposes. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	13. Bandit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While relaxing in the palace in Meridian, Aloy and Nil decide to play a little game. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Light BDSM. Dom!Nil / sub!Aloy, light bondage, light pain play.  
> In all honesty, not too much more risqué than I’ve already written… but just in case. ;)

Nil yawned and pared off another sliver of apple with his combat knife, then munched slowly on the slice of fruit. On the other side of their small suite in the palace, Suntress squeezed the excess water from her hair into the bathtub, then carelessly tossed the damp tangle of flames over her shoulders before pulling on a pair of silk lounging pants similar to Nil’s. She wandered aimlessly around the suite as she rubbed a towel over her hair.

Nil watched her with shameless appreciation as she meandered around. The silk pants were a size too big, and they slid down to sit below her hipbones even with the drawstring pulled tight. She’d undone her braids for the bath, and her unrestrained hair veiled her bare breasts and her face in a tantalizing curtain until she impatiently pushed it back. 

Suntress strolled slowly over to the balcony, her hips swaying hypnotically from side to side. Nil shifted on the bed and unabashedly adjusted the crotch of his pants to give his hardening cock a bit more room to unfurl before resuming the slow, idle slicing of the apple in his hand. “Do you want some of this?” he called out. 

“No thanks,” she replied as she hung her towel on the balcony to dry. She began twisting a small braid into the hair over her right ear as she wandered back towards the small dining table in the center of the suite. She took a wooden bead from the small dish on the table and slid it onto her braid, but her eyes were on an ornate mosaic bowl in the center of the table, which contained a number of Stormbird hearts. 

“Maybe we should ask Petra to make something out of these,” she said to Nil as she slid a second bead onto her braid. She sat at the table and pulled the bowl closer, then ran a finger thoughtfully over one of the machine parts. 

Nil slid off the bed and took a big bite of his apple as he padded over to stand behind her. He put the apple down, then lifted a small tress of hair over her right ear and began forming a second plait. “Why?” he asked lazily. “I rather like them as they are. Hearts mercilessly torn from the wildest machines, wires ripped raw and ragged, given a facade of dignity from this pretentious bowl.” He took the wooden beads she offered him and slid them onto the small braid he’d just finished. “The irony is a work of art in itself.” 

Suntress patted the braid he’d just finished, then nodded in satisfaction and pointed to her left temple, and Nil obediently took up a section of hair over her left ear. “But they’re just sitting there,” she said. “It looks sloppy. Which I know you like,” she added teasingly as Nil smirked. “But… I don’t know. We should do something special with them.” 

Nil finished the plait over her left ear and kissed her temple noisily, then strolled around to the chair opposite her and slung himself into it. “I suppose you have a point,” he conceded. “It’s not every huntress who can steal the hearts from six wild beasts.” 

Suntress frowned at him as she began braiding a second plait beside her left temple. “What do you mean, six? I only hunted five.” 

“No, you stole six hearts,” Nil corrected mildly. “Five hearts torn from the guts of Stormbirds, and…” He smiled winningly and gestured vaguely to himself. 

Suntress stared at him for a second, her hands frozen in her hair, then a slow grin crept over her lovely face. “Oh no,” she said, then she started to laugh. A lot. 

Nil smirked and took another bite of his apple as he waited patiently for her to finish laughing. “Oh, Nil.” She sighed happily. “That’s terrible. You did not just use that line.” 

Nil shrugged. “The truth can’t always be suavely delivered, Suntress. But it doesn’t change the facts.” He tilted his head and smiled affectionately at her. 

A delicate pink flush lit her cheeks, and she smirked as she finished the tiny braid over her left ear. “Well then, I guess I’m a love bandit,” she replied. “Stealing hearts all over the place…” She threw him a coquettish glance. 

Nil laughed at _her_ terrible line, even as the warmth in his groin simmered at her suggestive expression. “Well, if you’re a bandit, I’ll have to hunt you. Take back what you stole.” He raised an eyebrow in challenge. 

Suntress bit her lower lip and peered slyly at him through the veil of her hair. “Since when do _you_ care about returning stolen things to their rightful place?” she quipped. 

Slowly Nil rose from his chair and walked over to her side. He pulled her chair away from the table so she was facing him, then tilted her chin up and brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “You’re right. I don’t,” he said softly. “I’m just here for the hunt.” 

Her pupils were large and dark, and Nil couldn’t help but feel smug at the obvious evidence of her desire, even though he’d barely touched her. She arched her back slightly at the feel of his fingers on her jaw, then pushed his hand away from her face and rose from the chair. “Just here for the hunt, hmm?” she drawled. Nimbly she skipped away from him so the table was between them. “You’ll have to catch me, then.” 

Nil grinned slowly at her. “Oh, I’ll catch you.” He began to stalk around the table towards her. Suntress laughed mockingly and tossed her hair over her shoulder, and Nil’s already-hard cock jerked in response to the sight of her perfect breasts. She took another step away from him as he drew closer. “And _if_ you catch me? Then what’ll you do?” she asked teasingly. 

Nil smirked… then his eyes fell on his red silk scarf, pooled in a messy pile on the dressing table where he’d dropped it before their bath. 

He reached over and picked up the scarf, then slowly ran it through his fingers before lifting his gaze to Suntress’s face. 

Her eyes were wide, flicking between his face and the scarf in his hands. Her lips were as flushed now as her cheeks. Unconsciously she licked her lips, then asked, “What are you going to do with that?” 

Nil’s shoulders relaxed slightly at the tone of her voice: it was breathy with unmistakable desire, exactly what he was hoping to hear. He tilted his head, then matter-of-factly he said, “I’m going to tie you down.” 

He glanced at their bed with its ridiculously ornate carved wooden headboard. Nil had always disdained the fanciness of this bed, but the possibilities dancing through his mind now were… undeniably tempting. 

He looked back at Suntress again, and desire sizzled through his nerves as he observed the hunger in her face. She shifted her weight slightly, reminding Nil forcibly of a Ravager about to pounce. “And then?” she whispered. 

Nil took another step towards her, scarf in hand. “I’ll torture you until you beg for mercy,” he said flatly. 

Suntress stepped away from him and bit her lip, a teasing expression that contrasted with the blazing intensity of her hazel eyes. She tossed her head, but her untamed hair fell over her left eye. “I’m a fearless bandit. I won’t beg,” she retorted. 

Nil took another predatory step towards her. “A challenge. That’s my favourite kind of prey,” he growled. He lunged forward and grabbed her wrist. 

Suntress gave a tiny shriek and tried to pull away, but Nil had a tight grip. He smiled with satisfaction as he pulled his little hellion of a wife back against his chest. Suntress was quicker than this; she could have escaped him if she wanted to. 

That meant only one thing: she wanted exactly what he was about to give her. 

Nil wrapped his other hand around her throat and pulled her arm up behind her back: not hard enough to hurt by any means, but enough to stop her from struggling. He pressed his lips to her ear. “Your body betrays you, Suntress. It’s already begging for me.” 

“Not true,” she panted, then reached up and dug her nails into the hand that was gripping her throat. 

Nil hissed with pleasure at the bite of her nails, then nipped her ear sharply. “A liar _and_ a thief. You’ll pay for this.” Abruptly he picked her up and carried her over to the bed, then roughly tossed her onto her back. 

“Arms up. Hold onto the headboard,” he said. She obeyed instantly, her fists gripping a convenient carved post at the center of the headboard, and Nil crawled onto the bed and straddled her waist as he tied her hands in place with his scarf. 

As soon as he was done, Suntress began to struggle and pull at her bonds, and Nil examined his work with satisfaction; the scarf was loose enough to be comfortable, but she wouldn’t be moving from this bed unless he said so. He roughly tucked another pillow under her head and shoulders for comfort, then he cupped the back of her neck with one hand. 

“Suntress,” he said authoritatively, and she stopped struggling to look up at him. She was panting, and Nil could feel her hips bucking enticingly beneath him, but he forced himself to pause. A wildness was brewing in his blood, a dark surging of desire, and he needed her to tell him that this - this delicious _game_ they were playing… She had to tell him that this was acceptable. 

He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. “Do you want this?” he asked seriously. “Tell me if you don’t.” 

She swallowed hard, then nodded. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I want this. I... I like it.” She blushed, her cheeks turning a deep pink, but her gaze on his face was steady and sure, and the muscles in his neck loosened at her acceptance. Then she smiled cheekily at him through the wild tumble of her hair. “But I’m _not_ going to beg.” 

Nil tenderly smoothed her hair away from her face. He _loved_ her playfulness, but he needed her to impose boundaries on him. The roughness in his blood was roaring for her, and he needed to know she would stop him if it got to be… too much. “If you change your mind, tell me. Use a… a keyword, and we’ll stop.” 

She nodded eagerly. “What’s the keyword?” 

Nil bent down and thoughtfully ran his tongue over her delicious nipple, satisfied when she jerked towards him with a gasp. “Well,” he mused, “you’re a bandit, and I’ve captured you…” He smirked. “If you want this to stop, say ‘Sunstone’.” 

Suntress stared at him, then laughed suddenly. “Are you serious? You’re okay with being reminded of _prison_ while we’re… doing this?” 

“It’s fitting and fair,” Nil reasoned. Then he slowly tightened his fingers in her hair until she gasped. “But if I’m lucky… and careful… you won’t have to say it.” He slid down her body until he was kneeling between her knees. 

“I won’t. You’ll give in before I do. I won’t crack,” Suntress retorted. Nil smirked, then abruptly he pressed the heel of his hand against her silk-clad crotch. 

Suntress gave a shuddering gasp and bucked her hips, but Nil had already moved his hand away. He sighed with mock sorrow. “Oh, little bandit. You’re a terrible liar. I can feel your heat through these clothes.” He slowly slid his hands from her knees down along the inside of her legs until the angle of his thumbs and index fingers framed the vee of her thighs. 

Her thighs were trembling tensely, and Nil watched with fascination as she arched her back and slowly undulated her hips towards him, but she was stubborn: she bit her lower lip, and not a single sound escaped her lips. 

So Nil brushed his thumb over the center of her silk-covered heat, very gently. 

A soft whine of desire escaped her throat, but still she kept her lips clamped shut, and Nil smiled darkly. It was going to be so satisfying to break her resolve. 

“Look at me,” he commanded, and she opened her eyes. Nil stared at her for a moment, admiring the storm of lust in her face and the slight snarl on her lips, then slowly and deliberately he slid down on the bed and lowered his face between her legs until his mouth was a mere inch from her tempting heat. 

Suntress bit her lips and thrust her hips towards him, but still she refused to speak. So Nil spoke instead. “All you have to do is ask,” he told her matter-of-factly. “Just ask. Say, ‘Nil, I want you to put your mouth on me and make me scream’. Ask nicely, and I’ll do it.” 

Suntress whimpered softly at his blunt sexual promise, but shook her head vehemently. “Never,” she gasped. 

Nil tutted, then gently nuzzled her groin with his nose and lips. Already she was so wet that her moisture was starting to seep through the silk. Her scent was intoxicating, sweet and raw like unrefined honey, and Nil breathed deeply through his nose to master his own lust. 

Her soft cry of desire broke into the air, and the bed shuddered as she pulled hard at her bonds. “Nil!” she moaned. 

Nil raised his face and looked at her expectantly, but she was biting her lower lip again, and as he continued to stare at her, she groaned and slammed her head back against the pillows, then shook her head in denial. 

Nil chuckled. “So stubborn, Suntress, even as your body screams the truth.” He ran two fingers over her heat, and his body thrummed in response to the mewl of pleasure that poured from her lips. He pressed his fingers against her swollen bud through her pants in a light rhythm that he _knew_ was far too gentle to be satisfying. 

Sure enough, the headboard creaked loudly as Suntress yanked at her wrists and let out an animalistic sound somewhere between a moan and a scream. “Nil, you’re such a…” She trailed off, breathing hard, then undulated slowly towards his teasing fingers, lifting her hips off the bed and twisting her waist. 

Nil swallowed hard. His cock was pounding now, his own body screaming to take her, but the weight of lust in his groin was so sharp and exquisite, heightened by the contrast between her helpless state and her stubborn ferocity. The mere _wanting_ of her was something to savour in and of itself. 

He pressed more firmly against the vee of her thighs, and she moaned with sudden relief, then began panting as she rubbed herself shamelessly against his fingers. Nil watched her hungrily for a long, delicious moment, then suddenly he removed his hand and sat back on his knees. 

Her eyes flew open, and she glared at him so fiercely he could have sworn an enraged Stormbird was staring through her eyes. “You- how dare- you... You savage bastard!” she spluttered incoherently. 

Nil laughed darkly, then leaned over her and wrapped his hand around her throat. He felt her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “You’re testing my leniency, little bandit. Such rude curses falling from your lovely lips…” He kissed her hard, his cock surging with pleasure as she nipped his tongue viciously, then pulled away abruptly, causing her to gasp. He lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, “If you curse me again, I’ll punish you.” 

She laughed, a feral sound somewhere between a snarl and a taunt. “Punish how?” 

“Like this,” Nil replied smoothly, and he tilted her head to the side and bit the side of her neck, just enough to cause pain. 

Suntress jerked in surprise and moaned. Nil inhaled slowly through his nose to master his desire, then said, “Or like this.” Slowly he slid his hand down along her sternum and drew his fingernails across the smooth skin of her belly. 

Her breath exploded from her chest in a sob of pleasure. “You smug asshole,” she whined, then cried out as Nil bit her neck a second time, harder than the first. 

“Have you had enough? Do you need to say ‘Sunstone’?” he asked her roughly. The dark lust was roaring through his muscles and heating his blood, and more than ever she needed to remember that _she_ held the reins in this game. 

She laughed again - a rough, feral sound - then delivered a perfectly vile curse: “Go turn your face to the Sun.” 

Nil sat back in surprise, then laughed appreciatively. “You’ll pay for that one, pretty bandit.” He slid off the bed and unlaced her pants, then roughly pulled them down to her ankles. He shoved her knees apart, then delivered a sharp bite to the tender skin of her thigh just beside her pussy. 

She gasped and lifted her hips pleadingly. “Goddess,” she whined. 

Nil huffed with amusement, then turned away from her and lazily unlaced his own pants. “There’s no goddess that will help you now,” he said dryly. He dropped his pants and kicked them away, then strolled towards her neatly folded pile of clothes on the dresser. 

“Where are you going?” Suntress demanded, and Nil smirked with satisfaction at the desperation hiding beneath her bolshy tone. He picked up her pale blue scarf and brought it back over to the bed. 

Her wild gaze flicked manically between his straining erection and the scarf in his hand. Nil leaned over her and nipped her lower lip very gently, then suddenly pinched and twisted her nipple. 

She arched her back ferociously and cried out, and Nil slid his hand away from her breast to firmly grip her chin. “Bandits don’t get to ask questions,” he hissed. “You can do two things: you can beg for mercy, or you can scream your pleasure. I’ll accept nothing else from your lips without consequence.” 

Suntress opened her eyes and _glared_ at him, then tauntingly twisted her body towards him, thrusting her breasts with their pearled pink nipples in his direction. Nil’s helpless gaze fell on the endless temptation of her breasts for a split second before returning to her stormy face. She tilted her chin up defiantly, then slowly and deliberately said, “Fuck you.” 

The wild, bestial desire in Nil’s chest roared with approval, and he grinned slowly at her as he slid his hand from her chin down to her throat. He squeezed very gently while biting her neck _hard_ , and her lips dropped open on a gasp of pleasure. Then he released her throat and swiftly rolled her scarf into a narrow rectangle. 

She was panting desperately now, her eyes wide as she watched him. “What are you going to do with that?” 

Nil shook his head incredulously. _Unbelievable,_ he thought. His threats had no effect on her. He leaned over and swiftly tied the scarf over her eyes. 

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding,” Suntress exploded, tugging _hard_ at her wrists. Swiftly Nil kneeled on the bed between her legs, his weight on the silk pants that still captured her ankles, then covered her mouth with his hand. 

“Beg or scream. Two choices,” he gritted. His voice sounded rough and unfamiliar even to his own ears. Without moving his hand from her mouth, he bent over and ran his tongue along her ribs just below her left breast, then suddenly bit the tender skin over her ribs and sucked hard. 

Her wild cry of pleasure was an exquisite melody, accompanied by the loud creak of the straining headboard as she jerked against her bonds. Satisfaction poured through Nil’s chest, dark and thick as Carja coffee. 

Suntress would break soon. Nil could feel her surrender surging forth like a roiling thunderhead on the horizon. 

And he couldn’t wait to ride the storm. 

******************* 

Aloy couldn’t see a damn thing, and she’d never been happier to be blind. 

The pain of Nil’s teeth below her ribs was sharp and delicious, his voice a dark growl that shivered along her skin down to her groin. His silk scarf rubbed deliciously at her wrists with just enough friction for her to know she’d be a little bit raw tomorrow, but _damn_ if it didn’t feel good right now. 

Aloy loved when Nil took charge during sex. In times like this, she relished his dominance as an interesting contrast to his usual affable agreeableness during their daily travels. But she hadn’t expected _this_... and she couldn’t help but wonder why they’d never thought of this before. Physically Aloy was helpless, her hands tied and her feet restrained by the pants around her ankles, but under Nil’s controlling care, she felt strangely _safe_. 

And with that safety came the wildness. 

Not just hers, but Nil’s as well. Aloy couldn’t decide if she was goading Nil on, or if he was the one who’d started it by taunting her, but somehow the restrictive silk around her wrists and ankles was setting something free, something dark and hot and undeniably _savage..._ and Aloy _liked_ it. 

Nil’s teeth finally released her skin, leaving a stinging pleasure in their place, and Aloy twisted her body, unable to speak around his palm over her mouth. 

She felt his weight shift as he leaned close to her face again. “Are you ready to behave?” he purred. 

Aloy jerked her head in a sharp negation. There was no way she was giving in now, not when this game had just begun. Nil never started anything without delivering complete satisfaction, and she wanted to see what he had up his sleeve. 

His weight shifted again as he leaned away from her, then slowly slid his other hand over her belly to rest just below her navel. Slowly and carefully he pressed his nails into the skin of her abdomen. 

Aloy gave a muffled whimper and bucked against his palm. His hand was just above her hopelessly wet center, and every bite of pain from his nails and teeth was giving her a delightful little rush, a prelude to the pleasure she knew was going to come. 

Then suddenly the pressure of his nails lessened, and he removed his hand from her mouth. “I should gag you,” he said matter-of-factly. “That would keep you in line. Stem the flow of filthy curses from that lush mouth. Is that what you want?” 

His voice was stark and flat but gravelly with desire, bringing her every nerve to sharp attention. “Wouldn’t _you_ like to know,” she retorted. 

Nil huffed with amusement. Then she felt a _very_ light pressure was between her legs, stroking her swollen labia with torturous gentleness, and she whimpered helplessly. She was so distracted that she almost missed his reply. “Next time, then. That’s what I’ll do.” 

_Next time?_ she thought deliriously. His fingers were so close to where she needed him so badly, his skin barely touching hers, and he was already thinking of _next time?_ She was so unbelievably aroused she could barely imagine the next two minutes. She bucked her hips again, but his fingers maintained their position, giving her nothing more than a light brush against her moist and sensitive skin. “ _Touch_ me, you animal,” she snapped. 

He tutted. A bloom of sharp pain lit her inner thigh, and she keened with desperation as his hot breath drifted over her heat. “That’s rude,” he drawled, and then his fingers were between her legs again, sliding over the slick edges of her flesh with a butterfly-light touch while avoiding her clit entirely. 

Aloy jolted, unable to stop herself from jerking compulsively towards his clever torturer’s hands. She writhed and bucked, her frustration and rage and greedy _want_ rising sharply as he withheld his touch. 

Finally she snapped. “Nil, stop being such a bloody smug Carja ass and give me _more!_ ” 

He laughed - a dark, delicious sound - and Aloy cried out in ecstasy and pain as he twisted her left nipple again. Then a feather-light brushing sensation teased the underside of her right nipple, contrasting sharply with the sting of her left. “Mouthy little bandit,” Nil mused in a voice as soft as silk. “I know you want to come.” 

Aloy bit her lip and arched her back almost painfully as she tried to push her breast closer to his teasing finger, but she couldn’t ignore his smug, controlled words. “You know how to get what you want. So why not obey?” 

His barbarically light touch between her legs and beneath her breast continued, and Aloy shamelessly gasped for air as he lowered his voice intimately. “I can run my teeth and tongue over your breast. I can press that forge-hot button between your legs with my lips and fingers. The zenith is there, Suntress, within your grasp. All you need to do is obey me.” 

His voice was like hot water, washing away any scrap of inhibition she had left and leaving her body blank, a canvas to be painted with sheer _sensation_ : his tantalizing fingers between her legs, leaving the swollen bud of her pleasure bereft. His teasing touch beneath her breast, cruelly ignoring the tingling peak of her nipple. And his voice, his dark and controlled fucking _voice_ , driving her higher into a mindless frenzy of want. Suddenly she was at the edge, circling the dizzying depth of her own climax, and she wasn’t quite sure how it had happened. How was it possible for nothing more than a light touch and a heavy voice to bring her so damn _close?_

She drew in a shuddering breath. “Never, you _barbarian,_ ” she hissed. 

His hands stilled. Then suddenly they disappeared from her body entirely. 

She writhed and strained her wrists and cried out in total desperation. Suddenly his fingers reappeared, his hands spreading her thighs wide, his palms on her knees, and trails of exquisite pain were flowing along her thighs as he drew his nails carefully along the insides of her thighs towards her center- 

Her lips parted in surprise and ecstasy, and the words left her throat before she could stop them. “ _Please!_ ” she blurted. “Please Nil, I give up, I need you, _please-_ ” 

He laughed triumphantly. “That’s a good little bandit,” he purred. He shoved her legs apart, and the warmth of his tongue, the divine _pressure_ , finally it was hers, slipping smoothly between her cleft to dance with the lonely little nub between her legs. His fingertips slid along her plump labia, his tongue flowed in sleek patterns around her clit, and then- 

_Gone._ His tongue and his hands abandoned her body again. She was bereft _again,_ and this time she had no shame. _She_ was the animal, not him; she was a slave to her needs and to his clever hands, and she arched her back and shamelessly spread her legs in blatant invitation. 

“Please!” she screamed. “I’ll say whatever you want, anything you want is yours, just - I just need you to touch me, put your mouth on me, _fuck_ me, _please!_ ” 

“Good,” he said flatly, and his divine tongue returned, laving her clit with an almost lazy rhythm. His fingers were inside of her, pushing her inexorably towards the climax he’d promised. His other palm rested on her belly, and she knew he could feel the sharpness of her breaths, the desperate gasping of her anticipation. Sheer trembling sensation was welling in her throat, in her calves, behind her eyes, her lips were trembling- 

She exploded with ecstasy, the long-withheld climax ripping through her more swiftly than a precision arrow and spreading pleasure through her body as surely as corruption, stealing the breath from her lungs and expelling it in a feral scream. Her body arched like a bow, shuddering with tension until her exquisite orgasm abated, leaving her feeling as though she’d been blasted by Shellwalker shock. 

The mattress creaked as Nil crawled over her, the heat of his bare thighs straddling her waist. He tilted her chin up with a firm hand on her jaw, and she automatically lifted her hips in anticipation of his next sensual command. 

His voice was hard and rough with lust. “You said you’d do anything,” he growled. “Are you ready for what comes next?” 

Aloy nodded against the pressure of his hand on her jaw. From his domineering position over her body, she was fairly sure she knew what to expect. She wet her lips eagerly and lifted her chin. “I’m ready,” she breathed. 

His thumb brushed gently against her chin in a tender caress that contrasted sharply with the hardness of his voice. “You know what to say if you’ve had enough,” he said warningly. 

Aloy nodded impatiently. “I know, I know, now just tell me what you want!” 

A huff of amusement, a tightening of his grip on her jaw, and Aloy arched with a gasp as he skimmed the thumb of his other hand over her nipple then pinched it hard. “That wasn’t a beg, little bandit. That was a command.” 

“ _Please,_ okay?” she wailed. “Just show me what you want, please!” 

He laughed softly. “Not a very polite plea, but I’ll accept it.” Moments later, a soft brushing feeling graced her lips: velvety skin over a tempting hardness, and a hint of moisture. Aloy flicked her tongue out eagerly and tasted his unmistakable salt on her lower lip. 

Nil lifted her chin higher still. “Open,” he commanded. Obediently Aloy opened her jaw, and Nil slowly slid the head of his manhood into her mouth. 

The head of his cock teased her tongue, and immediately she tried to strain forward and take him deeper and further down her throat, but the infernal scarf around her wrists stopped her. She whimpered and strained her neck forward, to no avail: all he would give her was the tip of his hardness, and she desperately wanted more, wanted to give him even a fraction of the pleasure he’d given her. 

So she bucked her hips _hard_ , throwing him forward and off-balance. 

He grunted in surprise. She heard the thump of his hand catching his weight against the wall overhead, and then _finally_ the smooth, satisfying bliss of his cock sliding deeper towards her throat. Suddenly her mind was occupied by the fantasy of his length sliding into her feminine heat, and her desire surged to a fever pitch at the thought of him between her legs, thrusting his steely length into her... 

He pumped his hips slowly, giving and then denying her his cock, and Aloy moaned around his girth every time he withdrew. She could hear him pulling his tense breaths through his teeth as he slowly fucked her mouth. Why wouldn’t he go deeper? She knew he wanted it. Fire and spit, _she_ wanted it. Why wouldn’t he let her have more? 

_I have to beg._ Reluctantly Aloy pushed her head back in the pillows and turned her head away from his cock, and instantly Nil moved back, his hand cradling her jaw. “Are you-?” 

“I want you deeper,” she interrupted. “Please, go deeper. I want this.” 

His thumb stroked her cheek gently, but Aloy didn’t want gentle. She strained against her bonds and cried, “ _Please!_ I want your cock in my throat!” 

Finally he stroked her lips before lifting her chin again. “Open wide,” he commanded. 

The usual music of his voice was jagged and hard with lust, and a dark shiver of delight ran down her spine. Eagerly she complied with his command, and he slid his length all the way into her throat until her lips brushed the dark curls of his groin. 

She couldn’t moan, couldn’t make a sound around Nil’s girth, and she _loved_ it. Immediately she swallowed, squeezing his cock with the muscles of her throat. His deep groan of pleasure spurred her on, driving her higher into her urgent need to please him, and as she worked her tongue and throat around his cock, she clenched her fists around the post on the headboard, imagining longingly that it was his length in her hands. 

His breathing was short and sharp now, his manhood hardening further in her throat, and anticipation surged through her chest. He was close, she could feel it, and she wanted his pleasure as much as she’d ever wanted her own. She arched her back eagerly and swallowed again, her heart pounding in her ears as she waited for the gasp of his climax. 

Abruptly he pulled his cock out of her mouth, and then his weight left the bed entirely. 

Aloy came completely undone. His abandonment, her helplessness, their mutual wildly unsatisfied lust - it was all so incredibly and delectably _unfair_. An uninhibited wail of utter despair tore itself from her throat, and she twisted fiercely against her bonds until they hurt. “Nil!” she screamed. “Come back, I’m begging you, okay? Come back and give me your cock, please!” 

She could hear his ragged breathing beside the bed, but he didn’t respond. The knowledge of his nearness and his conscious refusal to acquiesce to her plea was unbearable, and Aloy gave a sudden sob of frustration. Curses were boiling at the tip of her tongue, a stream of vitriol about his cruelty and his savagery, but she managed to force them down. She was the animal, a caged beast tied for his pleasure, a creature of need and desire, and the only way she would survive was by taming her own savagery to his liking. 

“Nil, I need you inside me. I need whatever you want to give me, I need it _now_ , please! Please, please…” She knew she was incoherent, but she didn’t care. She would keep uttering total nonsense if it brought him back to the bed, his clever fingers and his talented tongue and the fucking _bliss_ of his cock. 

Suddenly his hot, strong hand was at her throat again, a perfectly firm pressure encircling her neck, and she gasped in helpless anticipation as he pressed his cheek to hers. “I’m going to _fuck_ you until you can’t walk. You’ll have no breath left for anything but to beg for mercy. Is that what you want?” he snapped. 

“ _Yes,_ ” she wailed. That was everything she wanted, _everything,_ and only her acquiescence would bring it to her. 

Nil removed the blindfold from her face, and as soon as Aloy laid eyes on him, she was impaled by a spear of desire so sharp she couldn’t breathe. His face was dark, forbidding, demonic with lustful intent, his shoulders hulking with dominant authority. This was a side of him that she rarely got to see, and now he was going to bring that dominance and that _lust_ to bear on her… 

She stared unabashedly at his dark and beautiful face as he reached for her wrists. “I’ll fuck you from behind. I’m going to untie-” 

“No,” Aloy blurted, and Nil’s eyes widened briefly. 

“No?” he asked, his voice soft and menacing. “You would dare to defy me _now?_ ” 

“No, no,” Aloy panted desperately. “I want - do what you said, I want that, but - keep my wrists tied. Please.” She blushed, hoping he wouldn’t think her strange or perverse, but the scarf at her wrists was an undeniable aphrodisiac. She was convinced that there was something about his blood-red scarf, some strange mystique in these threads of silk that was setting her free, and by the Sun, she wanted to keep this feeling. 

“Take me from behind, but I want to stay tied, _please?_ ” she begged. 

Nil stared at her for a moment longer, then suddenly he smiled. He gripped her hair and pulled her head back, making her gasp with pleasure before he kissed her hard. “You’re going to be the death of me, Suntress,” he growled, then untied her wrists from the headboard while keeping them bound together. 

Aloy lowered her arms, wincing slightly at the ache in her shoulders from pulling at her bonds. Nil crawled onto the bed between her legs, smoothing his hands over her arms and massaging lightly at her shoulders. He nuzzled her breast and then licked her nipple firmly, and a white-hot blaze of desire ripped through her, overriding the mild pain in her shoulders and leaving her groin absolutely throbbing with want. She arched her back pleadingly and shamelessly spread her legs wide. “Nil, please, I want you _now!_ ” 

“On your hands and knees,” he ordered, and Aloy swiftly rolled over into the position he’d demanded, then looked over her shoulder enticingly. 

“Please,” she panted. Soon this was going to be the only word left in her vocabulary, the only word she knew how to say, and she didn’t care. As long as it brought Nil close, convinced him to give her what she needed so badly… 

He grabbed her hip with one hand and pushed firmly on her back until her cheek was flush with the bed, and Aloy panted in desperate anticipation. Without another word, Nil slammed his length all the way inside of her to the hilt, and she screamed out in pleasure. 

He withdrew and then slammed himself deep again, and Aloy’s mind went blank. The pleasure was overwhelming, the aching need inside of her both fulfilled and stoked at the same time, and all words were wiped from her throat, leaving nothing behind but a sob of pleasure. She surrendered herself gratefully to the tireless pounding of his cock and the bite of his nails in her hips. 

Then he wrapped one arm around her waist and lifted her upper body so she was kneeling, then pushed her forward. Aloy cried out in shock as her forearms slammed against the wall, and suddenly Nil was pressed against her back again, his lips at her ear and his right hand between her legs, teasing her swollen clit. 

“You’re going to come for me,” he hissed. He pulled her hips back with his left hand and _slammed_ his cock into her again, then held still with his length deep inside of her while his fingers smoothed the nub between her legs. 

“Yes, yes, anything you want,” Aloy gasped. Her climax was rising swiftly, spurred into heavenly heights by his expert touch. He stroked his fingers firmly around her clit, meting out the perfect amount of pressure, and before Aloy even thought possible, her climax was surging over her with all the strength of a summer monsoon. She helplessly arched back against Nil’s strong chest as she cried out in rapture. 

She only knew one word. “Please,” she mewled. 

Nil bit her earlobe, and she gasped with pain and excitement as he bit the juncture of her neck and her shoulder _hard_ and then resumed his fast and ferocious thrusting. 

Aloy moaned uninhibitedly as he fucked her viciously. Suddenly he encircled her throat with his hand again in a possessive gesture, then hissed in her ear. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice rough as sandpaper. “My own personal Stormbird, tamed for my pleasure, _mine_ to stare at and to touch whenever I want. You understand that?” 

“ _Yes,_ ” she cried. Even without the scarf around her wrists, even without his cock inside of her, she was captured by him, inexorably bound by the ropes of his love, and she had no qualms telling him so. “I’m yours forever. Always,” she panted. 

His hand tightened on her throat momentarily, then he turned her face towards his. “Kiss me,” he gasped. 

Aloy obeyed happily, accepting the devastating passion of Nil’s open-mouthed kiss and his desperate tongue in her mouth. Moments later, he groaned against her lips and shuddered, his hands trembling against her throat and her belly as he reached his peak. 

Nil gasped, then released her throat, and Aloy leaned her head against her forearms and panted for air. Nil’s damp hair was pressed against her shoulder, his body trembling against her back as he recovered from his climax. 

Nil slowly lifted himself from her back, then gently helped her to lie back against the pillows and carefully untied the scarf from her wrists. He knelt beside her, and Aloy watched him with a surge of heartwrenching tenderness as he lightly smoothed his thumbs over the reddened skin of her wrists, then kissed her wrists before skimming his hands up her arms to massage her upper arms and shoulders. 

Aloy felt amazing: limp with exhausted pleasure, but her heart swollen with love for the vicious, tender man at her side. Nil looked so focused and serious as he ran his hands carefully over her arms, but when he finally met her eyes, his silver gaze glittered with warmth. “You didn’t say ‘Sunstone’,” he remarked. 

Aloy grinned and stretched luxuriously. “Didn’t have to. I liked, um… It was... good.” She blushed, suddenly feeling shy about exactly how much she’d liked being bound. Nil was the only one to whom she’d ever been comfortable giving any sense of control, but she’d surprised even herself with her wanton begging. 

Nil chuckled and flopped onto his back beside her, then pulled her close. “How many times must I tell you, Suntress? You don’t have to hide your urges from me. I’m happy to tie you down whenever you want…” 

He laughed smugly as Aloy blushed harder and smacked his chest. “What made you think of that, anyway?” she asked. “The… scarf thing.” Her contrary body flared with fresh arousal at the thought of being tied and blindfolded, and Aloy shifted restlessly, hoping Nil wouldn’t notice. 

“I read it in a tome,” he replied lazily. 

Aloy barked out a sudden laugh. “You _read_ about it? Seriously?” 

Nil nodded. “The Sun King’s private office had a whole set of tomes about sex play. I read them when I was young. I often snuck in there to avoid the princes and their nannies.” He shrugged. “Most of it seemed ridiculous at the time, but now…” He threw her a sly look and ran his finger along her hip, and Aloy bit the inside of her cheek to quell the surge of excitement in her groin. 

Suddenly Nil rolled towards her and pinned her between his forearms. “I can see the curiosity painted across your face,” he purred. “The tomes are likely in the palace’s private library now. I’ll steal them from Avad if you want a look.” 

“No, no,” Aloy sputtered, annoyed by the heat of her cheeks. “You don’t have to do that.” 

Nil smiled slowly at her, and Aloy couldn’t decide whether she was more irritated at her transparent embarrassment or at the traitorous wetness between her legs. Nil brushed his lips along her cheekbone, then whispered in her ear. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’d be happy to scan those tomes page by page for you.” 

Aloy smirked, even as she began to arch gently against Nil’s hard chest. “I’m sure you would,” she retorted. 

Nil chuckled, then turned her face to his and stroked her cheek gently. He was smiling, but his eyes were serious. “Don’t be shy, Suntress,” he murmured. “I’ve never hidden anything from you. You don’t have to hide from me.” 

Aloy swallowed hard, then nodded. She tilted her chin entreatingly, and Nil skimmed his lips over hers in a gentle kiss. 

She would need some time to think, to prowl carefully around this new and undeniably tempting arena of carnal exploration… but Nil had a point. She _was_ curious. 

And Aloy had never been able to resist a new avenue of enquiry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some much-needed credits:
> 
> 1\. This is 100% dedicated to Kitzie (hellarcanine on Tumblr). I’d been wanting to do this for a while, but it wouldn’t have happened without your encouragement and roleplay idea! THANK YOU!!  
> 2\. The safeword Nil and Aloy use obviously makes sense as it’s the name of the prison where Nil was for two years, but it’s also a shameless homage to [this beautiful and touching graphic novel called Sunstone,](https://shiniez.deviantart.com/gallery/35675685/sunstone-chapter1) which the illustrious and nefarious Kitzie also introduced me to. “Sunstone” is the safeword in this graphic novel, and the degrees-of-separation connection to Nil BLEW MY MIND, so I had to use it too. I highly recommend checking out this graphic novel. It’s really lovely. 
> 
> The next oneshot will NOT be smutty, which I know is a total shocker (ummm I’ve written nothing but smut since the end of December HAHAH oh god what’s wrong with me). I hope you guys are still with me! <3


	14. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avad asks Nil to meet him for a consultation, and the brothers' conversation shifts from professional to personal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: References here to [Shadow of the Stormbird](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12029034/chapters/27229245) and to [What Else Matters.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12965001/chapters/29638392) Sorry guys, couldn't help it... hope you're all caught up... LOL

“... and ask Vanasha to follow up with me about the Khane families’ responses to the tax increase. I want to know what to expect when we meet with the heads of house next week.” Avad shot Marad a faintly apologetic look. “I know how busy she is, but it would be ideal if she could meet with me within the next two days.”

“Consider it done,” Marad replied. “But do let me know if you wish to use any of my contacts to obtain further information.”

Avad frowned. “No spies,” he said bluntly. “Not for a matter this delicate. I don’t want to foster any mistrust. An open discussion is the best approach… for now, at least.” Avad was convinced that his father’s heavy reliance on spies had exacerbated his paranoia. Avad knew that his reluctance to use Marad’s spy network was somewhat hypocritical; after all, Marad and his people had played a major role in Avad and Ersa’s coup. But Avad felt strongly that subterfuge would only lead to distrust and resentment in the new Sundom that he was trying to build.

Marad bowed politely, and Avad patted the older man’s shoulder in thanks as he walked away. As Avad made his way towards his private quarters, he finally allowed himself to release the heavy sigh that had been building up in his chest all afternoon. 

Avad’s days were a blur of meetings and negotiations, of soothing ruffled feelings and making difficult decisions. Every day was as challenging and tense as the one before, and if it wasn’t for Marad reminding him of the date, Avad wasn’t sure he would always be able to distinguish one hectic day from the next. 

_I shouldn’t be complaining,_ he reminded himself. Being the Sun-King might mean a stressful life of burdensome responsibility, but Avad would never trade it for the way things were before. If this was what was required to make the Sundom an equitable, prosperous, and _tolerant_ realm, Avad would readily shoulder this burden for life. He only wished it wasn’t going be such a lonely burden to bear. 

As often happened, his thoughts strayed to Ersa. There was still a crater in his chest where her loud, passionate, larger-than-life presence used to be. The edges had softened with time, the void lessened somewhat by Erend’s jovial friendship and Vanasha’s cheeky intellect, but Avad knew this wound would never truly heal. 

_Don’t regret the time you had with Ersa. She may be gone, but she’ll always be your strength._ Aloy’s words drifted through his mind, and Avad raised his chin and determinedly forced his maudlin mood aside. The day’s work was far from done; he had a stack of reports awaiting his attention and signature, and he knew Ersa would not have approved of him feeling sorry for himself. 

He nodded and smiled at the guards stationed at the doors of his quarters, then unlocked the door and entered the foyer. 

Then he jumped in fright as a deep, sardonic voice addressed him from the corner of the room. 

“Time moves as sluggishly as clotted blood when the Sun-King takes his own sweet time to appear.” 

Avad loosened his instinctive grip on his scimitar and wilted with exasperation as Nil rose lazily from the couch. “Nil! You surprised me. What are you doing here?”

Nil raised one eyebrow and folded his arms. “A messenger said you requested my presence. What do you want?”

Avad smiled ruefully. He didn’t bother to ask how Nil had gotten into the Sun-King’s private sanctum without being seen. Nil’s _unusual_ manners and antisocial nature had softened somewhat since he’d met Aloy, but there were some things that would never change; ever since they were children, Nil had always had a habit of getting into places he shouldn’t be. 

Avad gestured politely for Nil to accompany him, and Nil fell into a sauntering step beside him. “Thank you for coming. I wanted to speak with you about the Tenakth,” Avad said. “Has there been any word from them since the battle? Have you heard from Taran?”

Nil shrugged. “No. But you would view a lack of information as desirable in this case. The only news the Tenakth would share is the news that they’re coming to make a claim on your land. Not to worry; the precious peace of the Sundom is preserved.”

Nil’s voice was bland, but Avad could hear the faint hint of scorn in his tone. Avad shook his head slightly in disbelief. He still found it mildly astounding that Nil’s bloodthirstiness hadn’t driven Aloy away. Avad still had difficulty stomaching his brother’s murderous nature.

Avad ushered Nil politely into his office, and Nil slung himself into the nearest chair. “What makes you ask about the Tenakth?” Nil asked.

“I appreciate that the Tenakth have been neutralized as a major threat - for now at least - thanks largely to your and Aloy’s friendship with Taran,” Avad replied. “And I thought perhaps we could revisit the idea of approaching the Tenakth as allies?”

Nil raised a skeptical eyebrow, but Avad pressed on. “From all accounts, Taran is a reasonable man. If he continues to hold a leadership role among the Tenakth, he may be able to influence others of his tribe to ally with us as well.” 

Nil shook his head. “No,” he said flatly. “They don’t think that way. Strength follows strength. Making alliances with outlanders would be viewed as the ultimate weakness.” Nil stretched his legs out in front of him and folded his hands leisurely behind his head. “I’m still surprised Taran wrested leadership of the horde at all. Did you know he once begged me to spare his life?” Nil grinned at Avad as though this was a grand joke. 

Avad smiled uncomfortably, then removed his crown with a sigh of relief and rubbed a hand over his flattened hair. “Well. I understand that you think it a futile quest. But I believe it would be worth an attempt, given the shift in leadership among their tribe. After all, a new leader can bring considerable change to his or her people.” Avad flushed suddenly as he realized how arrogant his words sounded. “I mean - that’s not to say-”

“You’re like a Glinthawk circling slowly around a metal corpse,” Nil interrupted lazily. “Spit it out. What do you need?”

Avad ran his fingers through his hair and smiled ruefully again. Aloy and Nil were the only people who ever told him to _spit it out_. Avad straightened and folded his hands formally. “I acknowledge what you’ve said about the Tenakth and our chances of an alliance. But I would still like to try. I think your… familiarity with their ways would make you an asset in any attempted negotiations. I’d like to request your presence at any meetings, if we are able to have Taran join us in the Sundom.”

Nil shrugged. “It’s pointless, but all right. We’ll travel to the Bloodlands to look for Taran.” 

Avad’s jaw dropped open in dismay. “Oh, no no, I didn’t mean - you don’t have to go find him. I know how busy Aloy is... We’ll send messengers…”

Avad trailed off sheepishly as Nil barked out a sharp laugh. “You would send palace messengers to Tenakth territory?” Nil said in high amusement. “I would happily accompany them just to witness the slaughter. It would be a work of art.” He snickered for a moment longer, then sighed. “No no. Spare your little messengers. Aloy and I will go. We’re overdue for another holiday.” He smirked to himself, then rose from his chair. 

Avad knew Aloy and Nil had gone on more dangerous trips before, but he couldn’t help but feel worried. “This is _not_ an urgent matter,” he stressed. “Please don’t feel obligated to rush. I would prefer if you took your time and prepared carefully for the journey…”

 _Be careful,_ he wanted to say, but he knew such words from him would mean nothing to Nil. 

Nil shot him an odd look. “We’ll go when we feel like it,” he said slowly, as though explaining something simple to a child. Then he turned and sauntered towards the door. 

Avad watched his brother silently. Then, just as Nil was about to open the door, Avad blurted, “How was your journey to the Cut?”

Nil slowly turned back to Avad. He tilted his head slightly. “It was fine,” he said cautiously. 

Avad bit the inside of his cheek. He and Nil rarely ever spoke of anything personal; Nil was so _difficult_ to talk to. His responses fluctuated wildly between rudely curt and verbosely gory, and Avad never felt like he was reacting properly to either conversational choice. 

But at this moment, Avad’s curiosity was overriding his awkwardness. He’d been stunned when Aloy had told him she and Nil were going to Banuk lands… and more than a little wistful. Avad had never left the Sundom. As a young child, he’d fantasized about being an explorer, travelling across the world in a grand Carja boat and seeing strange places and people. These childish fantasies had been stamped out as his princely duties had taken precedent. Now, as the Sun-King, Avad realized painfully that he may never leave the Sundom. If he ever did journey to foreign lands, it would never be as a simple traveller, but surrounded by an entourage of guards and advisors. 

Most people considered Avad to be the most powerful man in the Sundom, but in so many ways, that power was an incredibly effective and inescapable prison. 

Nil, on the other hand, was bound by nothing. He went where he liked whenever he felt like it, and Avad couldn’t help but envy that freedom. Most enviably of all, Nil had Aloy: a loving and equally unencumbered companion to share his travels with. 

Avad would never know what that was like. But now, gazing into the feral face of his brother who looked so much like him, Avad wanted a vicarious taste of that life. 

“Please, have a seat,” Avad invited. “I would like to hear more about your trip. I’m genuinely curious.” He took a seat in a second chair and gazed expectantly up at Nil. 

Nil narrowed his eyes. “Is this a command?”

Avad slumped slightly. “No, not at all. I’m simply… interested. I’d love to know what the Cut was like.” 

Nil rubbed a hand over his mouth, then slowly walked back into the room and sat warily in the chair beside Avad. “It’s cold,” he said. 

Avad smiled. “Yes, so I’ve heard. Is it as harsh and unforgiving as the Banuk make it out to be?”

“Yes,” Nil confirmed. “It’s a beautiful place. Only the strongest hunters survive in a land like that.” He leaned back in his chair, looking slightly more at ease, and smirked at Avad. “Aloy challenged a famous Banuk Chieftain and stole his werak. It was marvelous, like watching a snake swallow a rabbit whole.” 

Avad’s eyes widened in shock. “What?” This kind of authoritarian action sounded very unlike Aloy. 

Nil shrugged and folded his hands behind his head again. “She met them on their terms and won. It was nothing less than I would expect of her.” Then he sighed. “Unfortunately, she also made friends with a fucking noisy Oseram. Which is also nothing less than I would expect of her.” 

Avad smiled; Aloy shared a mutual fondness with a great number of Oseram, and deservedly so from both sides, in Avad’s opinion. But Nil’s statement only spurred further curiosity. “There were Oseram in the Cut? What were they doing there? Do they settle there with the Banuk’s permission?”

“Not settlers,” Nil replied. “Merchants and delvers. The Banuk don’t like them. But the Banuk don’t like anyone, really.” 

Avad chuckled and threw Nil a knowing look. “That sounds familiar. You must have gotten along well.”

Nil shrugged unconcernedly. “Perhaps,” he replied. Then he said nothing more.

Eventually Avad broke the silence with another question. “Can you tell me more about the Banuk lands? How much snow is there, really?”

Nil smiled slowly, then chuckled. “There is a _lot_ of snow. It’s hip-deep in some places. The deeper drifts can trap you more thoroughly than tripwire. But the lands are more variable than you might think.” He stretched his legs out and closed his eyes, finally looking fully at ease. “There are pools of water, rippling with colour and steaming with heat from the bowels of the earth. And the geysers…” Nil sighed, and a relaxed smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Explosive fountains of boiling water. The water hides underground, tempting you close with its heat, then… a violent burst of aquatic rage.” He shook his head in awe. “Water as a weapon. A natural one, no less. Soft enough to offer life, but tough enough to drown it away. It’s… like Suntress herself.” He trailed off with a contented sigh.

Avad swallowed hard and looked down at his folded hands. Nil’s poetic, violent words were painting an evocative image and tugging at the core of longing in Avad’s chest, cracking open the binding he’d wrapped around his deeply hidden wish to see the world. And Nil's obvious adoration of Aloy… 

Suddenly Nil snickered, and Avad cleared his throat before speaking so his wistfulness wouldn’t clog his throat. “What’s funny?”

Nil smirked. “Aloy walking in the deepest snow. She looks like…” He shook his head. “There’s no comparison. It’s just… very… _cute._ ” He wrinkled his nose at the last word, as though it was something he’d never said before.

Avad laughed in surprise. Aloy was many things, but _cute_ was not one of the first adjectives Avad would apply to her. “I don’t think she would appreciate being called ‘cute’,” he warned.

Nil raised one eyebrow. “Neither do I. Alas, I’ve suffered the insult from her lips more than once.”

Avad’s eyebrows jumped high on his forehead. “Aloy… calls you ‘cute’?” he asked carefully. 

Nil pursed his lips in annoyance and glanced at the door. “Yes.” 

With an enormous effort of will, Avad forced himself not to laugh. He rose from his chair and slid around to his elaborately carved desk. “Would you care for a drink?” he asked. He could tell that Nil’s tolerance of this conversation was waning, but to Avad’s surprise, he was actually enjoying Nil’s company. He hoped to keep his brother here for a bit longer. 

Nil shook his head, then pulled out his golden flask from his belt pouch. “I’ve got this,” he said, then took a small sip from the flask. 

Avad nodded acknowledgement, then poured himself a small measure of whisky. He returned to his seat beside Nil, and the two men sipped their drinks quietly for some time. 

When Avad’s drink was gone, Nil silently offered him his flask, and Avad took it gently. He took a small sip - it still surprised him that Nil enjoyed the Oseram’s signature liquor - then idly turned the golden flask in his hands. “I’m surprised you still have this,” Avad remarked.

Nil took the flask and drank from it again. “You don’t have yours?” 

“I do,” Avad replied. “But I don’t use it. It reminds me of… him.” Avad cleared his throat. “Of Jiran.” 

Nil frowned quizzically at Avad. “So?”

Avad shrugged. He couldn’t quite meet Nil’s eyes. “It’s an… unpleasant reminder.” 

Nil frowned more deeply. “The Mad King was your enemy. You won the fight and the war. What’s unpleasant about that? You should drink proudly from that flask. Savour the memory of your victory. Any bitterness only adds complexity to the flavour.” He stretched his arms and raised one eyebrow at Avad. “It may not have been a challenging fight, I’ll admit,” he continued. “The Mad King was weak, after all. But you were still the victor. That counts for something.” 

Avad gazed unseeingly at the golden flask. He ran his fingers gently over its scratched and dented surface. “We operate in such different ways, you and I,” he said softly. He looked up at Nil with a sad smile. “Strange to think we had the same father.” 

Nil frowned in confusion. “What does that matter?” 

Avad gazed back at Nil in equal confusion. For noble families, paternal lineage was all that mattered, and for the Sun-King this was especially true. Avad had always felt resigned to accepting this as the truth, whether he liked it or not. But Nil made an interesting point. Avad and Nil were perfect examples of how common blood could have no bearing on a person’s behaviour. Even more importantly, Avad was Jiran’s son, and Avad would do everything in his power to _never_ imitate his father.

To Avad’s surprise, Nil spoke again. “Who you came from - or _where_ \- is inconsequential. It’s what you _do_ that matters most.” He took his flask back from Avad’s passive hands. “Savour your present. Release your mind from the ugliness of the past and dance instead on its bones. Your life may stretch ahead of you like an unwalked path, but it will never be long enough to waste on lamenting the past.”

Avad stared speechlessly at Nil as he took another gulp from his flask. Then Nil raised one eyebrow. “What?” he grunted.

Avad shook his head slowly. Finally he found his words. “Thank you,” he said. 

Nil frowned. “For what?”

Avad reached for the flask again, and Nil handed it over. “For your… wisdom, I suppose. For lack of a better word. You’re entirely correct. It’s… an important reminder. I appreciate it.” 

Nil shrugged again. Then suddenly the Focus at his right ear lit up with a ring of blue light. Nil’s face brightened as he tapped the Focus. “Suntress,” he said. 

Avad watched with another pang of yearning as Nil listened to the tiny triangular device, then smiled broadly. “Yes. In the Sun-King’s office.” 

“Tell her she’s welcome to join us,” Avad interjected quietly. 

Nil flicked his eyes toward Avad. “He says to join us,” he told Aloy. There was another brief pause - presumably while Aloy replied - then Nil grinned again and tapped the Focus off. He looked at Avad. “She’s on her way.” 

Avad smiled and took another drink from Nil’s flask. “Wonderful. It will be good to see her.”

A few minutes and many sips of Scrappersap later, there was a gentle knock at the office door. Nil was on his feet and opening the door before Avad could rise from his own seat. Aloy stepped into the office, a smirk lifting her lips as her eyes fell on the empty flask in Avad’s hands. “The Radiant Sun-King and his Tenakth advisor are having a productive meeting, I see?” she teased.

“Yes, in fact,” Nil confirmed. “We’re going on a trip, you and I.” He grinned at her and gestured for her to sit in his vacated chair.

Aloy raised her eyebrows and planted one hand on her hip. “Oh, are we now?” She turned to Avad questioningly, then waved her hands impatiently. “Will you both just sit down? Fire and spit.”

Avad, like Nil, had risen from his chair and was offering it to Aloy. Both men sat hastily at Aloy’s command, and she strode between them to lean against Avad’s desk. “Now what’s this about a trip?”

“It was Nil’s idea, I assure you,” Avad replied. “It’s my hope to try and form an alliance with the Tenakth, and Nil offered for you to both travel to the Bloodlands. I didn’t ask him to go, and you don’t have to-”

“Of course he offered to go,” Aloy interrupted. She shot Nil an exasperated look. 

Nil smiled charmingly at her. “It’ll be an adventure, Suntress. The circumstances are infinitely more pleasant than the last. We can take our time… race across the mountains… search for waterfalls…” 

Aloy chuckled as Nil reached out and took her hand, then pulled her towards him. “You just want an excuse to leave the Sundom,” she retorted. 

Nil grinned and slid his hand up her back. “Absolutely. Was that not clear?”

Aloy smiled chidingly at Nil, and again Avad was seized by a bittersweet wave of fondness and envy for them both. “Okay, okay. We’ll go on this trip,” Aloy conceded. She turned to Avad. “When do you want us to leave?”

Avad shook his head firmly and tried not to look too wistful as Aloy ran her thumb idly along the back of Nil’s neck. “I leave it up to you. As I mentioned to Nil, it’s not urgent. And I will happily send guards with you as we did last time.”

“Not necessary,” Nil interjected. Aloy gave him a stern look and he protested, “We don’t need guards. Override a herd of Behemoths and bring those with us instead.” 

Aloy shook her head. “That’s hardly subtle, Nil. Behemoths don’t exactly scream ‘peaceful negotiations’. Especially coming from the Sundom.” 

Avad sighed regretfully. “You’re not wrong,” he agreed. Then he stood and slipped behind his desk again. “Aloy, may I offer you a drink? Nil, anything for you?” 

They both agreed to some whisky, and Avad poured the tumblers as he watched them poking fun at each other and planning their trip. Nil tugged one of Aloy’s braids teasingly and she swatted his hand away with a laugh, and Avad smiled to himself. 

Avad would probably be tied to Meridian for life; the Sun-King would always be beholden to his court and his citizens. Avad wasn’t sure he would ever get married, as any future partner would always have to lie in the shadows of Ersa’s memory. 

But at least he would always be able to hear of Aloy and Nil’s adventures. And he would always take comfort from the reflected rays of love from his brother and a dear friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:
> 
> 1\. One of Nil's lines in here is a poem by Rupi Kaur from her book titled "Milk and Honey". It's a wonderful poetry collection and I highly, highly recommend it. I did a [Tumblr post](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/post/169429110553/i-am-water-soft-enough-to-offer-life-tough-enough) recently with the poem in question because I love it so much.  
> 2\. GUYS, THERE IS NOT ENOUGH AVAD FIC OUT THERE. WHY THE HELL NOT? I just wanted to plug a couple of my fave Avad fics. This one by [LarissaFae](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11205444/chapters/25027857) is about Avad/Ersa. It's remarkably funny considering that this couple is tragically doomed. And then this one by [theroneaquila](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385548) is a really interesting peek into Avad's past, in the format of a letter Avad wrote to Aloy.  
> 3\. Speaking of Avad fic... I dunno. Maybe I have an idea for an Avad/Aloy thing. I dunno MAYBEEEE. Maybe.


	15. The Killer and the Keeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW and also, unfortunately, a spoiler: This is a threesome smut oneshot with Aloy, Nil, and the Stealth Trials Keeper. Light bondage is involved. It’s literally a completely self-indulgent fantasy.
> 
> Now, before you yell “BUT ALOY AND NIL WOULDN’T DO THAT, THIS IS SO OOC, HOW DARE YOU”... I agree that a threesome would be totally out of character for my Niloy. But please, friends, bear with me. If you really can’t stand the idea, no problem at all; give this a skip. But if you’re at all curious… Give me a chance. Put your trust in me.
> 
> This is the song I listened to on loop while writing this: [A Moment Apart by Odesza.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xarC5jAiO7w)

“This is what you want. Isn’t it?”

He’s standing behind her. She can feel his feral smile against her ear. His voice is smug and rough with lust as it skims across her cheek. His callused palm slides around her ribs to caress her breast, then higher to encircle her throat. 

Nil’s thumb strokes the tendon in her neck, coaxing a soft reply from her lips. “Yes,” she breathes.

“Good,” he retorts. “Relax your arms.” 

She wasn’t aware of her tension, but at his command, she relaxes. The weight of her upraised arms falls on the soft padded scarves that bind her wrists, and she exhales in relief. She’s tied securely and fully at his mercy, but with her arms lifted overhead, she feels dreamy, joyful, _free_. 

Nil’s hand smoothes gently over her shoulder and down her back, but his teeth nip her earlobe sharply. He cups her breasts, and she arches luxuriously into his rough palms.

“Are you ready, huntress?”

Smooth palms on her thighs are gently sliding her legs apart, matched by the smooth calm of his voice. She opens her eyes and smiles lazily at the Keeper. She doesn’t ask why he’s so far from the Spurflints Hunting Grounds; his reasons are clear in the heat of his chestnut-brown eyes. 

“Yes,” she says firmly. It’s her favourite word, the only word these men want to hear, and she’ll happily say it all day. 

The Keeper sits facing her and spreads her legs wide. His expression is hungry, his eyes bright with anticipation as he gazes at the slick petals of her pussy. He bites his full lower lip, then lifts his eyes to her face. “May I?” he asks. The question is polite, but his calm voice is edged with longing. 

Nil pinches her nipples, and she whimpers as he murmurs in her ear. “You’re a ripe fruit, Suntress. Fragrant and sweet. Already your juices are dripping, aren’t they? And he hasn’t even taken a bite.”

She swallows hard. “Yes,” she gasps hoarsely. 

Nil pushes her hair aside and nips the nape of her neck. “Tell him what you want,” he commands. 

Obediently she gazes back at the Keeper. “Taste me,” she says. 

The Keeper gives her a slow smile, then lowers his mouth to the apex of her thighs. His tongue is smooth, skilled, patient; he takes his time, lapping slowly at her moisture, savouring the taut nub of her pleasure, and she would almost believe she’s the most delicious thing that’s ever rested on this table. 

“You are,” Nil assures her. His lips trail across her jaw. His fingers trail beneath her breasts. He kisses the back of her neck. “You’re a feast, Suntress. And I would know. I’ve tasted every inch of your body. I’d rather starve than be denied the flavour of your flesh.” 

The Keeper hums in agreement, and a vibration of sheer bliss shivers through her body. He grips her thighs with his smooth, strong fingers and licks hungrily at her plump lower lips. Then he eases his pressure and kisses her swollen bud reverently, a gentle worship with his mouth. 

She moans with need and lifts her lips towards the Keeper’s handsome face. She would grab his hair if she could, pull him firmly to her groin, but her hands are tied and bound. 

Nil chuckles, and his poetic voice is the perfect accompaniment to the bliss between her thighs. “Your skin is like cream. Your nipples…” He strokes them with his thumbs then pinches their pearled hardness, and she jerks involuntarily against the Keeper’s mouth. “...these exquisite berries perched on the peaks of your breasts, matched only by the reddened scars that decorate your skin.” 

She’s panting now. The Keeper is honing in on her climax as surely as he’d prowl a Stalker at his hunting grounds, his tongue targeting her clit with the certainty of the hunt, and Nil’s voice is smug. He knows her body as well as his own, and he knows what’s about to come. 

Nil’s fingers twine in her hair. “Hair like a splash of blood, tenacious as a Scrapper’s jaws,” he whispers, then tugs her hair suddenly. She gasps and leans her head back to expose her throat, and he slides his hand from her breast to her neck, his fingers curving round her throat with a gentle pressure. “Will you scream for us?” 

“Yes,” she blurts. The Keeper’s tongue is skilled and his patience infinite, but he won’t have to wait much longer: her rapture is rising, gaining strength and swelling like the surge of electricity that surrounds an angry Stormbird, powered by the stroking pressure of the Keeper’s talented tongue and the possessive grip of Nil’s hand around her throat. 

And suddenly it strikes. The pleasure slams into her, throwing all thoughts aside, and she releases a wordless cry. She shudders fitfully. Her hips buck against the Keeper’s eager mouth. Her arms are pulling hard against their restraints, and she fancies that her pleasure is an almost visible thing, a burst of light and colour that drifts up through her upraised arms and her clenching fingers. She opens her delirious eyes and watches bonelessly as the wisps of her pleasure drift to the ceiling and beyond. 

“More,” she pants. She wants the colour to come back. It was marvelous and stunning, and she wants its glory again for her own. 

“Greedy, aren’t you?” Nil purrs. Suddenly he’s in front of her, standing authoritatively between her legs. He cups her neck possessively and kisses her, his tongue sliding sinuously against her own. 

“Your pursuit is admirable, huntress.” The Keeper is behind her, gently tracing her ear with his fingers, and his caramel-smooth voice is almost a whisper. “I prefer the music of the wild over the cacophony of squawking birds, but the sound of your cries and your demands… It’s a symphony.” 

She stares breathlessly at Nil. His silver eyes are magnetic, electric, pulsing with heat, and she knows he agrees with the Keeper. “Tell me what you want, Suntress. Make your demands.” 

The Keeper speaks for her. “She wants you deep. Seek the target of her pleasure and hunt it mercilessly.”

He’s not wrong, but his voice is so cool and composed, and she feels anything but calm. “Fuck me hard,” she says desperately to Nil. She arches her breasts towards him. 

Nil raises one eyebrow and tugs her hips towards the edge of the table. “Is that not what he just said?” Nil asks mildly, with a jerk of his chin towards the Keeper. 

The Keeper palms her breast firmly, and she gasps in a fitful breath. “This huntress is single-minded,” he muses calmly. “There’s no room for finesse when desire runs so close to the surface, like the rushing of blood in the tender veins of your wrist.”

Vaguely she realizes that his words sound like Nil’s. She looks at Nil questioningly and he smiles smugly at her, then spreads her slick moisture with his clever fingers. She lets out an involuntary cry and twists her body in a wordless plea, but her movement is hampered by the delicious scarves at her wrists. 

The Keeper runs his thumbs coaxingly over her nipples. “Shhhhh,” he whispers against her skin as though this will soothe her, but his hushing serves only to inflame her desire.

“Be calm, Suntress. Impatience hampers the true hunt.” Nil’s voice is mocking as the Keeper’s words drip from his savage lips. He grabs her hips and slams his cock into her. 

_Yes._ It’s her favourite word, the only word she knows, the only one she cares to speak. It’s ringing in her head, trembling from her throat, and Nil laughs victoriously as he takes her rough and fast.

“Your voice is a symphony, pretty huntress,” the Keeper says calmly. He thoughtfully rolls her nipples between his fingers. “I enjoy silence, but I’ll happily give it up to hear your cries.” His cool voice stands in an almost cruel juxtaposition with the desperation of her need, yet somehow it’s driving her higher into her mindless lust. The Keeper’s full lips slide sinuously across her shoulder blade, undeterred by the jolting of her body as Nil pounds his cock into her in a sweet hard rhythm. 

“This is what you want. Isn’t it?” Nil’s voice is feral with lust but still somehow melodic, and she wonders how on earth these men can think _her_ voice is the music: Nil is fucking her hard and the Keeper is caressing her skin with utmost care, but it’s their voices, their damn _voices_ , that’s really driving her ecstasy. 

“Yes. More,” she gasps. She wants them to keep talking, to coax her pleasure higher with their words, and she’s relieved when they understand. 

The Keeper speaks, and his voice is a susurrus against her ear. “I can see your focus, huntress. Your determination. Your pleasure is a wild beast, but you’re skilled in the true hunt. It’ll soon be yours.” His fingers pinch her nipples with a delicious bite of pleasure and pain, but it’s his smooth voice that truly makes her gasp.

Nil speaks, and his voice scrapes deliciously against her lips. “ _You’re_ the wild beast, Suntress. I know your claws against my skin and your teeth against my neck. You’d sink the weapons of your lust into my flesh if I hadn’t tied you up, wouldn’t you?” He grinds his cock into her in a firm circular rhythm, his pelvic bone skimming against her clit, but it’s his rough voice that pulls the mewl of desire from her throat. 

_Yes yes yes yes._ She can’t speak. She can only gasp and cry out with ecstasy. Her favourite word is a faint echo in her mind, drowned out by the sound of their voices, but they don’t need to hear it anymore. They know what she wants, they know they know they _know_ , and they continue to talk. 

“A handicap doesn’t stop the best hunters. Being tied won’t hold her back.” The Keeper addresses Nil in a mild voice. “She’ll catch her quarry sooner than later. I can feel it drawing close.” He slides his hands down to cradle her ribs, his fingers tantalizingly close to the undersides of her breasts. She’s tensely holding her breath in anticipation of her rising climax, and her ribs are trembling with exertion beneath his smooth palms.

Nil gives a low, smug laugh in response. “Oh, she’ll catch her quarry. It’ll burst over her with all the scarlet heat of a cracked skull.” He suddenly stills with his manhood deep inside her, then his fingers are smoothing around her clit, and her breath bursts from her throat in a gasp of heightened pleasure. 

_More._ She wants them to keep talking. Without being told, they do what she wants, and she’s drowning in sensation: the Keeper’s hands on her breasts and his lips on her back, Nil’s fingers on her jaw and his hips between her thighs, they all meld together in a breathtaking blend of bliss. Her pleasure is their favourite topic of conversation, and she silently treasures their interchange as her climax flows smoothly uphill like a river in reverse. She holds her breath again, and the beat of her own pulse is a drumbeat that underlines their voices: Nil’s beloved rough poetry provoking her, the Keeper’s smooth composure coaxing her forth, and their voices are like silk tangling together until she can’t tell one from the other. 

They call her name as they touch her. _Suntress,_ he says, and he smoothes his fingers around her sensitive clit. _Huntress,_ he says, and he runs his thumb across her nipple. _Suntress,_ he purrs, and his length inside of her is a promise. _Huntress,_ he murmurs, and suddenly his teeth braise her neck, and it’s perfect, it’s just what she needed… 

_Suntress. Huntress. Suntress huntress suntress huntressunttresshuntresssuntress..._

She releases a wild cry to the air, and her ecstasy drowns out the glory of their voices. She throws her head back and pulls _hard_ at her wrists. Their laughter is smooth and triumphant, and Nil is suddenly fucking her again with vicious pleasure while the Keeper turns her head to the side and silences her screams with a kiss. 

Nil drives into her hard and fast, riding out the beautiful wave of her rapture, and when he gasps to herald his own release, she breaks from the Keeper’s lush lips to accept the savagery of Nil’s kiss. She thrusts her tongue into Nil’s mouth, and the Keeper congratulates her as she kisses the man she loves. “Your skill is undeniable,” he praises her. “You’ve earned this Blazing Sun.” 

Nil slowly peels his lips from hers, and finally she opens her eyes to look at them both. They stand side by side, fully clothed and smug, their arms folded and their eyes perusing her nude body with open approval. 

Nil raises one eyebrow. “This huntress could use another trial to hone her skills,” he muses calmly. 

The Keeper smirks. “This time, let her loose the savage that lies within. She’ll squeeze out every fucking drop of pleasure if we allow it.” 

She gazes at them pleadingly. They’re one and the same, these two men; their idle lustful chatter is wrapping her in a haze of want so thick she almost can’t breathe, and only they can peel it back. Their eyes caress her body, molten silver and melted chocolate sliding over her skin, and she’s so aroused that their gaze seems to be all she needs; the pleasure is rising yet again between her legs, her skin is vibrating with heat, she’s gasping for air, she needs their touch _right now_ -

Aloy suddenly gasps and wrenches her eyes open, and Nil’s fingers clench against the back of her hand as she jolts into wakefulness. 

“Suntress?” he mumbles, but Aloy doesn’t reply; her whole body is throbbing with lust, and she gently slides her hand from his grip to slip down to the juncture of her thighs. She’s genuinely surprised when she skims her fingers along her cleft to find herself dripping wet. _But it was just a dream,_ she wonders. 

Nil slides his hand down her arm and over her fingers, and she feels his sleepy grumble of approval against her neck as he realizes that her hand is between her legs. He shifts away from her and pulls gently on her hip until she’s lying on her back. Lazily he props his cheek on his fist and smoothes his palm over her belly as he gazes down at her. “It’s the middle of the night, Suntress. Why are you hungry now?” 

He raises one playful eyebrow. Aloy flushes and laughs a little breathlessly; she’s so damn _aroused_ that she feels slightly embarrassed. “I… I had a dream,” she confesses. 

Nil grins slowly. “What was it about?” he asks. 

Aloy feels her face get even hotter at the teasing tone of his voice, and he laughs. But Aloy doesn’t reply. He’s always said not to hide her urges from him, but Aloy is fairly sure he wouldn’t enjoy hearing about this. Besides, it wasn’t an urge, not really. It was just a strange dream. They haven’t even seen that Keeper in years. 

It was just a dream.

Aloy can’t help herself; she strokes the swollen bud of her clit. Nil watches her quietly, his breaths gradually becoming louder and deeper until he suddenly pushes her hand aside. “I’ll give you something to dream about,” he whispers in her ear. 

His fingers caress her tender clit, and she inhales sharply and fists her hands in the sheets. Then Nil whispers playfully in her ear. “Don’t wake the palace, Suntress. Shhhhh.”

Nil is _hushing_ her. It’s an uncanny coincidence. Her dream forces itself into her half-awake mind as she gasps her pleasure. In this moment, this liminal space between sleep and wakefulness, can she really be blamed if the smooth, calm voice of another is drifting across her mind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? I told you guys it wasn’t really OOC. YES, I USED THE DREAM SEQUENCE COP-OUT LMAOOOO but really, you show me a woman who hasn’t hidden a sex dream about a random hot guy from her boyfriend/husband, and I’ll show you a liar. 
> 
> Very important dedications: this was 100% written for the **#HorizonZeroShame girls**. You ladies are the fucking best. Also a special shoutout to my very dear friend B, if ever he gets around to reading this, in honour of coming up with our life-defining hashtag HAHA. Love all you boos! xoxo
> 
> Finally: if you want more about the Stealth Keeper... I might have written [a minific about him since he's hot af.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13212924/chapters/30224325) It's AU from my Niloy (i.e. the Aloy in that fic is not with Nil). Enjoy!


	16. Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aloy and Nil strike up a little game of dares, and things inevitably get steamy. NSFW smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I didn’t mean this chapter to be that long. It just… Aloy and Nil kept on coming up with stupid dares, and then things got sexy, and guys I’m really sorry HAHAHAAAAA but I hope you enjoy this pile of completely lighthearted fluff. 
> 
> This is the song I listened to on loop while writing the second (steamier) half of this chapter: [”All the Stars” by Kendrick Lamar and SZA.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQbjS0_ZfJ0)
> 
> Timeline note: this happens after What Else Matters, but there's only one tiny spoiler reference to the DLC that hopefully won't mean anything to you if you haven't played the DLC.

Aloy stretched and yawned, then resumed stitching the tear in her Oseram sparkworker shirt. 

Nil glanced at her. “You should have the Stitcher deal with that. Or get a new shirt.”

Aloy shook her head ruefully. Nil was such a _noble_ sometimes. “I don’t need a new one. It’s just a small tear. And Teb is busy with his apprentices - the last thing he needs is to sew up a simple ripped sleeve.” She and Nil had arrived in the Sacred Lands that afternoon. They were resting for the night by the small secluded lake south of Two-Teeth before continuing east towards the Devil’s Thirst Tallneck. It was nearly sunset, and Nil was lounging comfortably beside her while she repaired her shirt. 

Nil lazily returned his gaze to the darkening sky. “You’re the precious Anointed. What use is a heavy title if you don’t throw its weight around once in a while?” 

Aloy rolled her eyes as she drew her bone needle through the thin fabric. “Nil, when have you ever known me to abuse a stupid title for my own purposes?”

Nil started counting on his fingers. “When you summoned the Nora to Meridian to fight your HADES entity. When you stole Aratak’s werak so you could go to Thunder’s Drum. When you-” 

Aloy slapped his hand in annoyance. “That’s different! That’s not _abusing_ my titles. That was necessary!” 

Nil folded his arms behind his head and smirked at her. “Having a shirt with both sleeves attached is also necessary. Merchants should be showering you with new clothing after everything you’ve done.” 

Aloy pinched the underside of his arm until he rolled away from her with a snicker. “No way. I don’t want any special attention. Besides, you’re being a hypocrite. You never take advantage of your own fancy title, _Prince_ Nil,” she mocked. 

Nil smirked as he settled back beside her and idly ran his hand down her back. “You know I discarded that title like a ragged snakeskin long ago. But I certainly would use it if I was rightly motivated.”

Aloy snorted. “Of course you would.” She resumed her sewing.

A long, quiet minute later, Nil sighed loudly. “Suntress, I’m bored.”

Aloy glanced at Nil with fond exasperation. She and Nil had eliminated a small pack of bandits earlier that day on the Nora side of Daytower. Nil was always ebullient for a few hours after a hunt, but he tended to become somewhat despondent as the day wore on. 

Aloy jerked her chin towards the lake. “Go for a swim. Do some laps.”

“I’m not in the mood for swimming,” Nil complained. 

Aloy ignored his petulance and calmly sewed another stitch. “Well, _I_ would go for a swim. But I don’t want to get my clothes wet.” She’d left most of her clothing in Meridian. The only other shirts she had at the moment were her Carja light armour, which she avoided wearing in the Sacred Lands, and the shirt she was currently fixing.

“So swim naked,” Nil suggested. He shot her a sly look. 

Aloy shook her head. “No way. That’s not done here.” Before she left the Sacred Lands, the only naked body Aloy had ever seen was her own. She actually wasn’t certain how the Nora felt about public nudity, but her general feeling was that it was not particularly welcomed. 

“Come now, Suntress,” Nil cajoled. “There’s nobody around. The water calls your name. Why would you resist?” 

Aloy rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling; Nil was so _transparent_ sometimes. Already the crotch of his silk pants was starting to tent. “Nice try, but no. Besides, I want to finish this stitching before it gets dark.”

Nil sighed mournfully. “You’re scared of the water being too cold. I understand.” 

Aloy frowned. “I am not scared!” 

Nil shot her a deeply skeptical look, and Aloy blushed, to her great pique. “Okay, yes, I’m not a fan of the cold,” she admitted grudgingly. “But it’s hardly cold now. And that’s not why I’m not swimming!” 

Nil continued to stare at her, the corner of his lip twitching with amusement, and finally Aloy put aside her shirt in indignation. “I can take the cold! I grew up in these lands, for the Metal Devil’s sake. You think I can’t tolerate a little cold water?”

Nil shrugged and looked back up at the violet-coloured sky. “Prove me wrong. I dare you to swim naked in that lake.” 

Aloy exhaled heavily and stared at him. She knew _exactly_ what he was doing, with his taunting dare and his fake disinterest and his stupid bulging groin, but she couldn’t resist a challenge. 

“Fine,” she snapped. She tossed the half-repaired shirt onto Nil’s chest and began shedding her clothes. “You’re keeping a lookout, though. If anyone approaches…” 

Nil was sitting up now, his eyes bright and hungry as he watched her stripping. “Nobody sees your body bare except me, Suntress. Not unless they have a death wish. Don’t worry.” 

Aloy tossed her Nora leggings into Nil’s lap and shot him an admonishing look over her shoulder. “That’s very barbaric, Nil,” she drawled. Without further ado, she dove into the water. 

Nil was right. It was bloody _cold_. But she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Aloy gamely swam a few easy laps in the lake, then leisurely kicked her way back to the edge of the lake where Nil was waiting. 

She lifted herself out of the water and forced herself not to hunch over with cold as she approached him. Goosebumps were rippling across her naked body from head to toe, but she arranged her face into a blasé expression as she folded her arms and gazed down at him. 

“How was it?” Nil asked politely, but his face was lit with a devilish grin. 

“It was refreshing,” Aloy replied pertly. A gentle late spring breeze drifted over her, and she shivered involuntarily. 

Nil laughed, then reached up and pulled her down beside him. He tucked their fox-fur blanket around her, then swiftly wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her beneath his body. “You win,” Nil purred. “I humbly stand corrected.” 

“Of course I win. I’m not afraid of a stupid dare,” Aloy riposted. Then her breath hitched in her throat as Nil slid his hot hand inside the blanket and stroked her breast. The friction of his hot callused palm over her puckered nipple was aggravatingly pleasurable. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Nil murmured against her ear. He pinched her nipple lightly, then slowly slid his hand down over the chilled planes of her belly. 

Aloy panted with excitement as the heat from his hand coaxed an answering warmth in her abdomen. “Maybe I’ll hold _you_ to it,” she replied breathily. 

Nil laughed again, and the mischievous, sensual sound of his mirth lifted a fresh wave of goosebumps across her skin. “I like that. This is a good game, Suntress. I’m not bored anymore.” 

“Good. Then maybe you’ll stop complaining,” she retorted, and Nil chuckled once more. Then his lips captured hers, his hot tongue stole her breath, and Aloy had no thoughts left for dares or games or _anything_ but the feel of Nil’s clever fingers on her body. 

**********************

The next morning, Aloy and Nil rode east towards the Tallneck at a leisurely pace, chatting and joking casually in between bouts of peaceful silence. But during their quiet moments of riding, Aloy was thinking… about dares. 

Nil’s playful taunting from last night had returned to her mind, and she was busily wondering how she could get some lighthearted revenge. She would have to tread lightly in Nora land with this new game. Most of the Nora still either worshipped her or were grateful for her help, but they remained skittish about Nil, and for good reason: he didn’t like them any better than they liked him. Aloy refused to take the Nora’s acceptance for granted; they had such an odd kind of pack mentality that offending one hunter could turn a whole settlement against her.

But Aloy wasn’t giving up. She would get back at Nil. The opportunity would present itself; she just needed to be patient.

Late that afternoon, they arrived at Mother’s Crown and stopped for a hot meal and to sell some ancient relics. The villagers mentioned that Varl and Sona had taken the braves for training that morning and would be back just after sunset, so Aloy elected to stay until they arrived, with Nil’s agreement. 

She and Nil ate their boar-and-vegetable stew by a secluded campfire at the corner of the settlement. Nil finished off his last bite of his flatbread, then leaned back on his hands as Aloy finished her dinner. “What should we do while we wait for the braves?” Nil asked. “Shall we go tell some children that their goddess is a door?” 

Aloy snorted a laugh, then coughed as a Nora mother walked past with three children in her wake. “Tempting, but I’d prefer to avoid a riot today,” she murmured to Nil. “Let’s have a drink while we wait…”

She trailed off as inspiration suddenly struck, then grinned wickedly at Nil. “I dare you to invite Sona to join us for a drink.” 

Nil’s face fell into a blank mask, and Aloy gaped at him in surprise. She could only detect the sudden dread in the tilt of his eyebrows because she knew him so well. “Suntress, no. You don’t want me to do that,” he warned. 

Aloy stared at him. “Why not?”

Nil shook his head. “The War-Chief…” He trailed off, and Aloy gave an incredulous little laugh; he looked so _displeased_. Finally he said, “She’s a trap waiting to be sprung. The single-minded warrior she shows the world is a thick shroud. It’s a mask.” He grimaced slightly, then said, “She’s so… _Nora._ ” 

Aloy raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief and amusement. “Yes, she is. Is that all?” She tilted her head and pouted mockingly at him. “Are you _scared_ to ask her?” 

Nil didn’t rise to the bait; he just shook his head again, then huffed ruefully. “I’m thinking of _you_ , Suntress. You should pray to the imaginary All-Mother that she says no.” 

Aloy laughed again. She tilted her chin up and gazed boldly at Nil. “This is my dare. But let me know if you’re too scared to follow through.” 

Nil gave her a slightly feral smile. “You’ll be sorry.” 

Aloy grinned, but before she could reply, she caught the faint sound of multiple voices approaching the settlement. She craned her neck to look, and sure enough it was Sona, accompanied by Varl and her small group of braves-in-training. 

She smirked at Nil. “Now’s your chance. Are you a coward, or-”

Aloy didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. Nil stood and gripped her chin firmly, then kissed her hard. “You’ll be sorry if she says yes,” he whispered against her parted lips. Then he released her and sauntered over to Sona.

Aloy watched with a combination of awe and amusement as he stopped directly in Sona’s path and said something to her. Varl’s jaw dropped a little, and Aloy pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing out loud. Sona scowled more deeply than usual, and Aloy couldn’t hear her reply, but her displeasure was _very_ evident on her face. She roughly shoved past Nil, the rest of the young braves following like a line of goslings in her wake. 

Aloy watched as Varl spoke to a smirking Nil. Then the two men made their way back to Aloy’s side. Varl grasped Aloy’s forearm in greeting. “Aloy,” he said politely. “Is there some reason why your husband is trying to provoke my mother into killing him?”

Aloy looked at Nil with avid curiosity. “What did you say to her?” she demanded.

Nil shrugged unconcernedly. “I simply invited her to join us for a drink.”

Varl raised his eyebrows. “That’s not all you said.”

Nil shrugged again, but a wicked little smirk was lifting the corner of his lips. “She said no. So I said even a war-chief needs to relax, or her bowels will become more twisted than a Corruptor’s tail.” 

Aloy’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t.” 

“He did,” Varl said in a long-suffering tone, and Nil snorted with laughter. “Unfortunately, the War-Chief declined my invitation,” he said casually.

“Can’t imagine why,” Aloy muttered, but she couldn’t quite bite back her smirk. Together she, Nil, and Varl started in the direction of the central lodge to share a pitcher of cider. As Varl began to update them on recent events in the Sacred Lands, Nil fell into step beside Aloy and tweaked one of her braids. “I win,” he murmured very quietly. 

Aloy shook her head in amusement. “For now,” she whispered back. The game was only beginning.

*********************

Aloy and Nil’s game of dares continued as they made their way to the Devil’s Thirst Tallneck, then back towards the Sundom. Nil dared Aloy to take out two Sawtooths and three Scrappers with only her blast sling - her noisiest and least precise and thus least preferred weapon. The next day, Aloy dared Nil to take out a Bellowback entirely by stealth: his least favourite way of hunting machines. 

After helping Nil to take out the second Bellowback (in a much louder, messier fashion), Aloy knelt beside a very smug-looking Nil and inspected a fresh scorchmark on his right bicep. She pulled out her little pot of hintergold paste. “Not bad,” she said as she unscrewed the cap from her pot of hintergold. 

“Not bad?” Nil drawled. He wrapped his uninjured arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. “My performance was superb and you know it.”

Aloy feigned nonchalance as she swept a small blob of hintergold paste onto her finger and spread it on his arm. “Uh-huh,” she muttered. He wasn’t wrong: he’d done a _very_ good job. But she’d always known Nil was more than capable of stealth. He just chose not to practice it. 

Nil allowed her to wrap a light bandage around his arm. As soon as she was finished, he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. “I won,” he whispered. 

Aloy rolled her eyes, but she didn’t push his hand away as he slid his fingers around to the nape of her neck. “For now,” she retorted. 

Slowly Nil undulated his hips towards hers, and an instantaneous flare of excitement in her throat struck a spark of heat between her legs. Aloy bit the inside of her cheek to hide her reaction to the rolling motion of his body; he was so damn _smug_ that she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

Nil gave a low, throaty laugh. He’d always been able to see through her feigned standoffishness. “Such a commendable performance deserves a prize. Wouldn’t you agree?” he taunted, and tilted her hips closer to his with his other hand. 

Aloy scoffed in disbelief. Nil was so _infuriating_ … and her treacherous body was clamouring for exactly the kind of carnal prize he was hinting at. Abruptly she undulated against him firmly, rubbing the heat of her groin against his deliciously hard cock. 

Nil gasped in surprise at the grinding of her hips, then grunted as Aloy reached up and grabbed a fistful of his hair. She pulled his head back and lowered her face to his. “The game’s not over yet, Carja,” she hissed. She kissed him hard, slipping her tongue into the yielding heat of his mouth, then just as abruptly she rolled off his lap and hefted her spear and onto her back. “Let’s go. We should be able to make it to Morning’s Watch before nightfall.”

She tossed her hair and glanced over her shoulder at him, and finally she smiled: Nil was staring at her with a faintly gobsmacked expression, his chest rising and falling with lustful breaths. Then he grinned slowly at her. “You’re holding out on me? _You?_ ” he demanded. 

His voice was rough with desire, and Aloy ignored another aggravating throb of heat between her legs. “You want a prize? You really need to _win._ The game’s not over yet,” she repeated. Then, with a provocative twitch of her hips that would have made Vanasha proud, Aloy began to saunter away.

Just as she’d known he would, Nil caught up to her in seconds. He dragged her back against his body with one arm around her waist and captured her throat with his other hand, cutting off her gasp of pleasure with a gentle pressure. “You’ll fall, Suntress. It’s just a matter of time. I’ll savour my victory, like biting into a freshly bleeding boarsteak,” he murmured against her ear. Ruthlessly he slid his hand into her cropped Nora tunic and palmed her breast, his fingers stroking the hardness of her nipple through the soft fabric of her undershirt.

Aloy forced herself not to arch into his touch. Instead, she twisted away from his arms to shoot him a knowing look. She rarely used this kind of guile with Nil; usually _he_ was the teasing one, lording over her with the intensity of her desire until she eventually capitulated to his demands. But now, with Nil’s frustrated and frankly animalistic stare raking over her body, she found that she _liked_ this new element of their little game. 

She sniffed disdainfully. “We’ll see about that,” she retorted. Then, to escape the heat of Nil’s molten silver gaze, she whistled shrilly for a pair of Striders and began to run. 

She could hear the pounding of Nil’s feet as he ran after her, and she grinned with exhilaration and the joy of competition. As soon as their summoned Striders caught up with them, Aloy vaulted onto her machine without breaking stride. Soon she and Nil were racing neck-and-neck for Daytower Gate. 

She shot him a smile, and he grinned back at her. She and Nil were tied now in their little game of dares. Aloy had a competitive streak a kilometre wide, but she had to admit that maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if Nil won. 

*****************

Two days later, Aloy and Nil were strolling through Meridian’s market. Nil was muttering somewhat resentully to himself, as Aloy had won another dare that morning: he had dared her to convince a Sun-Priest to let her become an acolyte. Aloy had promptly marched straight to the Temple of the Sun and spoken to Mournful Namman, who had happily welcomed her request and suggested she present her case to the other priests. Aloy had ultimately gotten out of the obligation by pretending to change her mind, saying she wouldn’t be able to balance her other duties with the heavy responsibilities of a Sun-Priest. 

Now, she smirked smugly at Nil for the umpteenth time. “You thought that would be _hard_. But I’ve got a golden tongue,” Aloy bragged.

Nil raised one eyebrow. “Your tongue may be many things, Suntress, but golden it’s not,” he said, with a provocative glance at her mouth. “Besides, you cheated. You already knew that priest would agree,” he complained. 

Aloy stretched her arms leisurely and ignored Nil’s longing glance as his eyes skimmed over her bare midriff. “You didn’t specify the terms of the dare. Your own fault,” she replied pertly. 

Nil grunted. “Fine. Give me a dare. I deserve a chance to make up for this… travesty.” 

Aloy patted his arm patronizingly. “All right, sore loser. Let’s see…” She scanned the marketplace idly for inspiration. Then her eyes fell on the Twisted Cog, Erend’s favourite Oseram pub. 

She slid her eyes back to Nil and grinned evilly at him, and his shoulders wilted in preemptive dread. “Fucking fire and blood. What do I have to do?” he demanded. 

Aloy jerked her head at the Twisted Cog. “I dare you to make friends with an Oseram. One that you don’t already know,” she added sternly. 

Nil groaned. “Must I?”

Aloy shrugged casually. “No. Only if you want a prize.” She brushed her hair back over her shoulder and shot him a coy glance. 

For some ridiculous reason, she and Nil had come to the unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t have sex until their game of dares was won… and yet they hadn’t decided what would constitute _winning_ the game. As a result, both of their libidos were at the boiling point, and yet, much to Aloy’s surprise, she seemed to be faring better with the constant sizzle of tension beneath her skin. Nil had become downright ornery over the past two days, and he wouldn’t stop _staring_ at her. 

As though to demonstrate the point, he stared at her now, his jaw working in frustration as his eyes traced greedily over her bare arms and waist, then finally he shook his head in resigned annoyance. “Fine,” he drawled. “But you’re coming with me.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her along with him to the pub. 

Aloy had no time to even ask him what he had in mind before he released her hand and shoved the pub’s double doors open and stepped inside. Aloy surreptitiously sidled over to stand against the wall as Nil folded his arms arrogantly across his chest. “Who wants to fight?” he announced loudly to the suddenly hushed pub. “Anyone who can strike me in the face gets free drinks for the rest of the night.” 

The primarily-Oseram pubgoers stared at Nil in surprise and bemusement, and Aloy slapped a hand over her mouth in horror. _Fire and spit and Metal Devil’s blood,_ she thought, as a young Oseram man - a friend of Erend’s, in fact, named Ulkert - rose from his table. “I’ll fight,” he shouted, and the pub erupted in cheers. 

The boisterous occupants of the pub cleared a space in the middle of the room more quickly than Aloy could have imagined. She anxiously clutched a fistful of her own hair as Nil lazily shed his bow and arrows then turned to face Ulkert, who was already bouncing on the balls of his feet with his fists upraised. 

In contrast with Ulkert, Nil stood in a completely loose posture with his arms hanging at his sides. He neatly dodged Ulkert’s first swing, to an uproar of raucous laughter and cheers from the pubgoers. 

Aloy’s dismay eventually grew into amusement as she watched Nil and Ulkert’s antics. Nil circumvented Ulkert’s every swing, prompting a combination of cheers and playful boos from the crowded pub, but Aloy knew her husband’s fighting style: he was purposely slowing down in his dodging, allowing Ulkert to get close, letting Ulkert’s fists swing closer and closer within range…

Then suddenly Ulkert took a swing and struck Nil across the right cheekbone. 

The pub erupted into a cacophony of cheering, applause, and fists and tankards slamming on tables. Ulkert raised his arms victoriously, then slung his arm firmly around Nil’s shoulders and dragged him towards the bar. 

“Scrappersap all night for me, Lorna!” Ulkert yelled. He clapped Nil on the back. “The Carja Prince is paying!” 

Aloy slid over to Nil’s other side as he pulled a generous handful of shards from his pouch and tossed them on the bar. Ulkert laughed raucously and elbowed Nil. “Better luck next time, eh Prince?” he said. He slid a cup of Scrappersap to Nil. 

“Yes, next time,” Nil deadpanned, and Aloy pressed her lips together in amusement as Nil’s faint sarcasm slid right over Ulkert’s head. Ulkert heartily clanked his own cup against Nil’s and slugged back his drink, then turned away to talk boisterously with his friends. 

Finally Nil turned to Aloy, and she gingerly stroked the already-forming bruise on his right cheekbone. “You purposely lost that fight,” she accused quietly. 

“Yes, I did,” he muttered. “But I won your little dare.” He downed his cup of Scrappersap in a single swallow, then grabbed her around the waist and dipped her. Aloy barely had time to clutch his shoulders for support before he kissed her firmly, his Scrappersap-laced sweet-and-bitter tongue sliding into her mouth.

Once again, the pub erupted into cheers and lascivious hooting, and Aloy’s cheeks burned with embarrassment even as she accepted the heat of Nil’s kiss. Finally she broke away from him and shoved his shoulder in rebuke before tugging him towards the exit. She smiled half-heartedly as her Oseram acquaintances playfully punched her arms and catcalled.

Back in the relative peace of the marketplace, Aloy punched Nil in the abdomen. “You show-off! Stop drawing so much attention!” 

Nil grunted in mock pain, then pulled her close. “Don’t punch me,” he said. “I’ll have you arrested for disorderly conduct.” 

“ _Hah._ You wouldn’t dare,” Aloy retorted as she slid her hands around his bare waist. Helplessly she leaned into the heat of his chest until she was pressed against him. She knew should be resisting him, but the hardness of his body was so tempting… 

Nil grinned at her dangerous choice of words. “Wouldn’t I, though? _That_ would be a good reason to throw around my so-called title. The Carja Killer Prince getting the Saviour of Meridian arrested…” His voice was musing and thoughtful, matching the slow slide of his fingers as they encircled her waist. 

Aloy scoffed and shoved him away before she could melt any further into his touch. She strode purposefully towards the main square. 

“Where are you going?” Nil called, and she turned back to look at him with a quizzically raised eyebrow. “Have to empty my pouches,” she replied. Her pouches were indeed heavy with machine parts to trade.

But Nil shook his head slowly. “Not right now. I have another dare for you.” His gaze was intense and _loaded_ with intent, and Aloy swallowed hard at the combined jolt of trepidation and desire that speared her belly. 

She folded her arms boldly. “All right. I’ll bite. What is it?” 

********************

Aloy nervously glanced along the deserted corridor for the third time before following Nil into the royal library. She twisted her fingers together as Nil closed and locked the door behind them. 

Nil brushed her hair back and kissed the back of her neck. His facial hair scratched gently at her skin, and Aloy gave a tiny gasp as he tasted her earlobe with his lips before whispering to her. “Why so nervous, Suntress?” 

“I’m _not_ nervous,” she retorted. “Let’s do this.” She tapped her Focus to make sure the library was empty, then stepped away from Nil’s orange-scented warmth and strode towards the multitude of bookshelves before realizing that she didn’t know where she was going. 

She turned back to Nil with her chin raised high. “Where are these stupid sex books, anyway?” 

Nil grinned at her, then indicated a particular row of shelves to her. “End of the row. Under ‘Eloquent Tatavid’. That was the scholar’s name.” He sauntered over to the beginning of the row and leaned against a bookshelf with his arms crossed. “I’ll keep watch for you. Take your time. _Enjoy._ ” His smug gaze trailed luxuriously over her body, lifting an answering thrill of heat beneath her skin. 

“Thanks,” Aloy retorted acidly, then strode purposefully down the row. Nil had dared her to scan as many pages as she could from one of the Carja’s notorious tomes about sex play. She’d admitted to him some time ago that she was curious, and she figured now was as good a time as any, but his infernal _smugness_... It was like he thought she wouldn’t actually go through with it. 

_Well, the joke’s on him,_ Aloy thought rebelliously as found the set of books and pulled the first volume from the shelf. She raised one eyebrow as she eyed the set: there were eight books in total. _How is there this much to write about sex?_ Aloy wondered, with not a little curiosity. _And Nil read them all when he was a child?_

She shook her head incredulously, then kneeled on the floor with the first volume on her lap. She opened the book and turned on her Focus to scan.

And immediately her mouth dropped open at the images in the book. 

She looked up at Nil. “You didn’t tell me these books were _illustrated,_ ” she hissed. 

“Didn’t I? My apologies,” Nil drawled. He didn’t look apologetic in the least.

Aloy shook her head in exasperation, then began to scan the book page by page. While scanning, Aloy skimmed the text quickly. Much of this book seemed to detail carnal acts that she and Nil had done before, but many of the pages included footnotes hinting at more exotic positions and props in the later volumes. And the illustrations… 

Aloy had never seen erotic paintings or drawings before. The illustrations in this book were admirably rendered and incredibly detailed... and _very_ explicit. _For educational purposes, I’m sure,_ Aloy thought to herself calmly. 

But her body didn’t seem to agree with her logic or her attempt at remaining calm. Already her pulse was pounding at the apex of her thighs. As she continued to flip through the pages, the images stuck in her mind, and she fought to slow her breathing as she mentally replaced the illustrations’ faces with hers and Nil’s… 

Aloy shifted awkwardly on her knees, and to her dismay, she was so aroused that the slight shift in position alone sent a shiver of pleasure from her groin up to her nipples. She bit her lip and inhaled slowly through her nose, then glanced up idly to check on Nil.

He was watching her carefully, and Aloy stopped breathing altogether at the look on his face. 

His posture was as casually arrogant as ever, but his face was utterly serious, and the burning intensity of his silver-eyed stare pinned her in place. Aloy gazed back at him with sudden desperate longing. She didn’t care about their game anymore. She didn’t care about winning. All she wanted was for him to demonstrate the contents of this stupid bloody book. She wanted his fingers on her body, his tongue between her legs, his cock in her hands-

Suddenly Nil was on his knees before her, carelessly shoving the book aside as he loomed over her, and Aloy leaned back on her palms and gasped in an excited breath just before Nil captured her lips with a savage kiss. Without breaking their kiss, he lifted her to her feet with one arm around her waist and then shoved her back against the bookshelf with one hand on her hip. 

Aloy tore her lips from his and gasped jerkily as his hot callused fingers slid over her belly and straight into her leggings to stroke the curls between her legs. He pressed his mouth to her ear. “Did you enjoy your reading?” he murmured.

Aloy couldn’t answer. She couldn’t think. Nil was slipping his fingers lower, his index finger stroking lightly at her wetness, and nothing else mattered except the heat of his skillful hand between her thighs. 

“Hmm,” Nil murmured with satisfaction. “I see that you did.” He stroked one finger over her clit, and Aloy mewled with sheer unstoppable _want_. “Please,” she whimpered. 

“Please what?” Nil purred, and Aloy whimpered more loudly. “Please _hurry!_ ” she blurted. Who knew when someone else would come into the library looking for references? She was so desperately and unbearably _frustrated_ that she thought she might burst into tears if she didn’t get some piece of satisfaction right now. 

Nil chuckled smugly. “Suntress, when have you ever known me to hurry?” he taunted. He teased her clit again with the lightest brushing of his finger. 

“Nil, I can’t do this, I can’t,” Aloy babbled hysterically. Why couldn’t he understand how much she needed his touch? She grabbed her own hair at the crown of her head and tugged hard just so she could feel _something_. “You need to touch me right now, or I’ll- I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Nil taunted, and Aloy dug her nails into the back of her own neck in fury. “I’ll divorce you,” she snapped. 

Nil laughed at her absurdly empty threat. Then finally, at long bloody last, he began to pet her swollen clit with careful firm strokes of his fingers. “You’re cruel,” he whispered in her ear. “Striking right at my heart. How can I resist?”

Aloy whined in response and clutched his shoulders. She was so wet and his fingers were so damn hot. The little bud between her legs was like a power cell, sending a shock of life and energy to the tips of her finger and toes, and if he just continued to stroke her for a few more seconds… 

Suddenly she heard the unmistakable sound of the library door opening, followed by a familiar heavy sigh, and Aloy almost screamed with frustration. 

_No. No no, please no,_ she thought desperately. She was so close, so damn _close_ , and this was the moment when Avad suddenly needed to use the library? 

Nil removed his hand from her leggings and sucked her arousal from the tips of his fingers, and Aloy clenched her jaw to silence the wail of distress that was clawing at her throat. Nil kissed her hard and fast - just enough to leave the torturous taste of her own musk on her lips - then whispered, “Go. I’ll distract him. Slip out when he’s not looking.” 

Aloy couldn’t speak. She was sincerely worried about what kinds of obscenities would come out of her mouth if she opened it. She nodded tightly, then hid out of sight at the end of the row while Nil sauntered back towards the library door with an appearance of total nonchalance. 

“Nil!” Avad’s surprised voice floated through the large room. “I didn’t know anyone else was here. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for something to read while Aloy works on her machines,” Nil replied. His voice sounded distinctly bored, and despite her raging frustration, Aloy smirked. The two men continued to chat, and eventually their voices drifted towards the shelves and away from the door. Swiftly and silently, Aloy slipped around the edge of the room and out the door. 

She waited impatiently at the end of the corridor. A few interminably long minutes later, Nil emerged from the library, his eyes darting along the hall until he saw her. He started to walk towards her, then grinned as she pushed away from the wall and ran at him. 

Aloy shamelessly threw herself at Nil, and he caught her easily and swung her legs around his waist. She gasped as he slammed her back against the wall, the back of her head cradled protectively in his right palm, then his lips were devouring hers, his left hand supporting her butt while his right hand slid into her blouse, and Aloy’s vision went dark for a brief second as Nil pinched her nipple. Then he hissed as her teeth nipped his lower lip sharply. 

Nil pulled back from her and licked a spot of blood from his lip, and Aloy didn’t give him time to speak. “I dare you to finish what you’ve started,” she panted. “Now. Right now.” 

Nil raised his eyebrows and smirked at her. “Right _now?_ ” he purred, and pressed his rock-hard groin against hers.

Aloy gasped and buried her groan of pleasure against his lips in a fierce kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair. She broke from his lips and shook her head hastily. “Not right _now_ , not here, you know what I mean,” she babbled. “Nil, just - we need to find somewhere _right now._ ” 

Nil nuzzled her neck gently, his lips and tongue leaving a sizzling trail of heat across her skin, then he gripped her chin with his right hand and turned her head to the side. “I know just the place,” he whispered against her jaw. 

“Okay, okay, let’s go,” Aloy replied in a strained voice. Every dominant, possessive touch of his hands on her body was peeling back more of her inhibitions, and if they didn’t get out of this hallway soon, she was going to forget why they should. 

Nil finally placed her on her feet and led her down the hall at a torturously decorous slow pace. Somehow Aloy managed to keep a straight face as they passed by various courtiers and palace guards, until finally they reached Nil’s intended destination. 

Aloy balked as she recognized the locked room. “Nil, no. We can’t.” 

Nil raised one eyebrow at her. “Yes we can. If there’s anyone who wouldn’t mind, it’s her.” 

“No way! This is…” Aloy’s protests trailed off as Nil placed his hand on her waist, his thumb sliding just under the hem of her cropped silk blouse to tease the underside of her breast. He stared into her eyes. “It will take more than ten minutes to get back to our suite,” he said slowly. “I can almost smell your need, Suntress. It’s rolling off of your skin like the most exquisite cloud of corruption. Do you really think you can wait that long?”

His thumb stroked the tender edge of her nipple, and finally Aloy broke. “Okay, okay, fine,” she whimpered. “Fine, fine…” She was incoherent, but Nil had heard all he needed to hear; he was working carefully at the door with a lockpick. Seconds later, Aloy heard the soft _snick_ of the lock, and Nil pulled her into the elegantly decorated office.

He locked the door behind them, then turned and clasped Aloy’s face in his hands before kissing her hard. He walked her backwards toward the pristinely tidy desk, then lifted her by the waist and deposited her on the desk. He stood between her parted knees and began tugging at the laces of his pants. 

Aloy panted roughly as she pulled at the laces of her leggings. Nil’s face was taut with lust, and for once it looked like he was as desperately hungry as she was; his lip was curled in a snarl, and the movements of his fingers over his laces were jerky and rough. 

Aloy shoved her leggings down to her ankles, then leaned back on her hands and spread her knees invitingly. She tossed her hair back and looked up at Nil. “Fuck me,” she commanded. 

Nil finally freed his erection from his pants, and Aloy bit her tongue as she stared unabashedly at his hardness. Her gaze traced the delicious vein along the length of his cock, and there was an enticing drop of moisture at the head of his cock, and Aloy couldn’t resist: she swiftly leaned forward and licked away his salt, then took his hardness in her mouth.

Nil groaned and gently twined his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, and Aloy grabbed his hips and pulled him closer, angling her head so she could slide his length towards her throat. Nil groaned again, and Aloy revelled in the sound of his pleasure and the warm scent of his dark curls as she lavished his cock with her lips and tongue. 

Soon Nil’s breaths were coming short and sharp, his abs tensing with his impending climax, and Aloy clenched her nails in his skin as she worked him enthusiastically with her throat. But Nil suddenly tugged on her hair, pulling her away from his cock.

“Nil, just let me-!” Aloy’s protest was cut short as Nil bent over and kissed her hard, his fingers stroking insistently over her heat. He nipped her lower lip, then pulled away and hissed in her ear. “I’m going to taste you. Then I’m going to fuck you hard and fast on this desk. Yes?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Aloy yelped as Nil slid one finger inside of her. He covered her mouth swiftly with his other hand. “You have to be quiet,” he whispered. He grinned slowly at her. “Your pleasure screams are like music to my ears, but unless you want someone to come in and cut this short...”

Aloy nodded furiously. She could be silent. She would do whatever he said as long as he was true to his word, as long as he finally made good on the sensual promise in those infernal silver eyes… 

Nil smiled, then pulled his pants back up and sat in the desk chair. Roughly he pulled Aloy closer to the edge of the desk, then shoved her thighs apart and lowered his face between her legs. 

He was _hungry_ ; there was no doubt about that. Gone were the usual teasing strokes of his tongue, his customary careful lapping at her wetness. Nil devoured her moisture, his tongue plunging inside of her before swirling over the swollen bud of her clit in a firm rhythm. He growled against her flesh like a starving animal, and Aloy bucked convulsively towards his face. The pleasure of his mouth between her legs was just as devastating when he was rough as when he was careful and teasing, and Aloy’s orgasm was rising with a startling speed, roiling and building in time with the rhythm of his lips and tongue. 

“Nil…” she whined, then suddenly she gasped; her climax slammed over her, and she shuddered and bit the back of her hand to silence herself. Nil was relentless, his tongue swirling carefully around her sensitive bud until her convulsive trembling lessened. 

Then Nil was on his feet. He gripped her hip with one hand, then pulled his cock from his pants and slammed into her in one smooth thrust. 

Aloy forgot herself and cried out, but Nil smothered her cry with his tongue in her mouth. His left hand was twined in her hair again, tugging just enough to lace her pleasure with the finest exquisite edge of pain, and his right hand held her steady as he pistoned his hips against hers.

Aloy gripped Nil’s neck with both hands and greedily stroked his tongue with hers, then nipped his lips before thrusting her tongue in his mouth again. Suddenly Nil broke from her kiss and pulled her head back to expose her throat, and Aloy braced her weight on her palms and bit her lip hard to stop herself from crying out as Nil nipped her neck in a series of tiny bites that trailed down to her collarbone. Abruptly he pushed her blouse and vest up and suckled her nipple. 

“Fire and spit, Nil, I can’t…” Aloy suddenly sobbed with pleasure and bit viciously on the back of her hand. Throughout all of this, his bites and his kisses and his mouth on her breast, he continued to fuck her with a smooth, hard intensity. Could he really expect her to stay quiet when every damn thing he did was pushing her higher into unbearable ecstasy? 

Nil didn’t answer. She could hear his breaths coming faster and louder against her skin, and she lifted her hips to eagerly meet his every thrust, wanting him to find his pleasure. But he tugged on her hair again. “Lie back,” he gasped. “I want to look at you.”

Obediently Aloy lay back on the desk, and Nil grabbed her hand. “Touch yourself,” he grunted. 

Aloy stroked her fingers around her swollen nub, and Nil slowly withdrew, then thrust into her very slowly. The angle of their bodies pushed his cock along the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of her, and she arched helplessly towards him. 

“Why…” she gasped. She knew Nil had been about to finish, but for the second time today he was thwarting his own climax. He did this often, and in her hedonistic rush for pleasure, Aloy never really understood _why_. “Why don’t you just come?” she demanded roughly. 

Despite the feral lust in his face, Nil smiled at her. “The rush is even better if I hold off,” he said. “Those tomes taught me that.” His voice was absolutely guttural with desire. Gently he pushed her hand away from her groin and stroked his fingers around her clit with surprising tenderness. “Why do you think I tease you all the time?” 

Aloy gasped and arched viciously towards his fingers and his cock. He was petting her clit with slow, smooth strokes that perfectly matched his slow thrusting. “Because you’re a barbaric slag?” she quipped. Then she cried out and began to convulse again as her rapture rolled over her for the second time. 

Nil covered her mouth with one hand. “That too,” he retorted playfully. Then he began to fuck her again in earnest. A few long, ecstatic moments later, he gasped and shuddered as he finally accepted his own climax. 

They breathed hard together in the aftermath. Nil’s forehead was pressed against her neck, and Aloy lazily slung one arm around his shoulders as she waited for her pulse to slow. Finally she spoke. “We shouldn’t have done this in here,” she said guiltily. 

Nil chuckled against her skin. “It’s too late for second thoughts now,” he purred. 

Aloy groaned, then gently pushed at his shoulders until he lifted himself away from her. She’d just finished lacing her leggings back up when she heard the sound of the lock being turned. 

“Fire and spit,” Aloy hissed in panic. How were they going to explain what they were doing here? She stared wild-eyed up at Nil, but he was no help; he looked completely at ease as he leaned back against the desk. 

The door opened, and Vanasha stepped inside. Immediately she recoiled as she spotted Aloy and Nil, then relaxed as she recognized them. She sheathed the small and wickedly sharp knife that she’d instinctively grabbed. “ _Aloy?_ What are you two doing in here? How did you even get in?”

Aloy blushed furiously as Nil replied. “I picked the lock,” he said blandly.

“You…” Vanasha trailed off, then said, “You’re a complete sociopath, you know that?”

Nil shrugged unconcernedly, and Vanasha folded her arms. “Did you have sex in my office?” she demanded archly. 

Aloy opened her mouth - to say what, she wasn’t sure - but Nil beat her to the punch. “Yes,” he said proudly. 

Aloy buried her face in her hands. She _couldn’t_ look at Vanasha. If her face got any hotter, her skin was going to melt off. 

Aloy waited with heavy dread for Vanasha to say something. Finally Vanasha sighed. “I suppose I can’t fault you. It’s not the first time this room has seen some action, after all.” 

Nil turned to Aloy. “See?” he said complacently. “I told you she wouldn’t mind.” 

“Okay, time to go,” Aloy blurted. She grabbed Nil’s hand and hauled him towards the door. “Sorry, Vanasha. Really sorry. Won’t happen again.” She ducked her head in total humiliation as she slid past Vanasha and back into the hallway.

“Next time, just ask for the key,” Vanasha called after them as they walked away. “Nil, if you break into my office again, I’ll gut you like a fish.” 

Nil opened his mouth to retort, but Aloy pinched the underside of his arm. “Don’t you dare answer,” she hissed. They made their way back into the marketplace in silence. As soon as the friendly sounds of the market had enveloped them, Nil turned to her. “So. I win the game, don’t I?” 

Aloy stared up at him in disbelief. He was grinning down at her. Suddenly Aloy started to laugh. She punched him in the abdomen again. “You’re _so_ satisfied with yourself, aren’t you?” she admonished, but she couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. “You smug, arrogant, overconfident, _disgusting_ barbarian...” 

Nil laughed - a smooth, musical, and utterly _cocky_ sound - then tilted her chin up with one gentle hand. “I love you too,” he purred. Then he kissed her. 

Aloy wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Nil was insufferably smug, but Aloy could concede that he’d won their little game.

This time, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout-out to LarissaFae for letting me use Eloquent Tatavid’s name in this fic! I knew I wasn’t the only one who headcanoned the Carja having sex books… I mean come on, of _course_ they have sex books. Check out her Avad/Ersa fic, "Factions of the World", for more about Carja sex books. XD


	17. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short drabble about a kiss. [Now with accompanying art](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/post/177497617148/his-hands-cradle-her-neck-his-thumbs-stroke-the) by the insanely talented @nsfwfrosch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to this song on repeat while writing this little thing: ["Mine" by Bazzi.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gc71AmT_b2k)

His hands cradle her neck. His thumbs stroke the fine lines of her jaw. Her lips are parted for him already, and he captures them without hesitation. 

Her callused fingers slide around his waist and up his back to grip his vest, but Nil barely feels it. He’s too intent on her lips. Their tender plumpness is suffused with the crimson flush of her desire, and he pulls away from their endless temptation for a moment to stare at her face. 

_Red_. Everything about her is red: her scarlet lips, her flushed cheeks, the flames of her hair… Nil had always loved the sanguine colour, but now as he wraps his fist in the hair at the nape of her neck, he realizes he is obsessed with it. 

Slowly he tugs her head back, and her lips part on a gasp of excitement, a delicious little gasp that Nil is only too happy to savour with the tip of his tongue. 

He presses her back against a tree and she presses her nails into the skin of his back, pulling him flush to the inviting heat of her body. He slides his hand over her waist and pulls her close, savouring the heat of her bare midriff against his. Suddenly her hands are gripping his neck, her leg is around his waist, he’s lifting her up and cupping her bottom, she gasps as the roughness of the treebark scrapes her skin-

 _Red_. Everything about her is red: her tongue as it tangles with his, the tender marks on her neck that his teeth leave behind… Nil fancies he can practically see the hue of her passion seeping from her skin, and he knows, he _knows_ without a doubt, that there’s no other colour in the world that matters. 

He breaks abruptly from her lips. “Suntress,” he gasps. 

She’s panting heavily as she stares at him. He cups her cheek and smoothes his thumb tenderly over her cheekbone. “You’re a firestorm,” he breathes. “My skin is blistering under the heat of your touch. You make it feel like the blood is boiling in my veins. I never want it to stop.” 

He pauses to take a breath, but instead he breathes her in, pressing his nose to her cheek, inhaling the fragrant _life_ that rolls from her skin. 

“It’s never stopped,” Nil whispers against her ear. “I’ll never let it stop.” 

Her eyebrows tilt upwards and she bites her lip. Her forest-green eyes are shining, reflecting the heavy leaves of the jungle around them. She strokes his face gently, and he’s captivated by the weight of her gaze. He doesn’t need her to say anything; he can see it painted across her face, scribed more clearly than a book of glyphs, but she says it anyway.

“I love you too,” she breathes. 

_Red_. Everything about her is red: the lustful press of her hips, the entreating tilt of her chin as she begs wordlessly for his kiss, the insistence of her words as she whispers her adoration against his ear… It’s all he sees, it’s all he feels, it fills him up completely.

 _Red_ , he thinks, as she tangles her fingers in his hair. It’s all he’ll ever need.


	18. The Path Of Your Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for a kiss, from [this Tumblr post](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/post/174478357863/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-i-will-write-a). The lovely and talented Kitzie requested #20 (on a scar). NSFW smut.

Lips on the tender curve of her neck, then a gentle tracing of his tongue.

Aloy inhales slowly and tries to force her eyes open, but her eyelids are so heavy. “Nil,” she mumbles. “What time is it?” It’s dark still in their east-facing chamber, so it can’t possibly be close to daylight.

His hand slides enticingly over her breast, and he nips her neck with his teeth. “Don’t think about the time,” he purrs. “You’re the master of your own domain. There’s nothing to say you can’t master the fickle trails of time itself.”

Aloy scoffs softly. “That kind of logic lets you do exactly as you please. How convenient,” she teases, yet still she arches into his lips as he presses them to a spot just below her ribs. 

He slips his tongue lightly across the small patch of skin, then graces it with a tiny bite. “Roll over,” he says.

“Why?” Aloy asks suspiciously, but follows his request all the same. Once she’s on her belly, Nil looms over her on his hands and knees and nuzzles a spot on her left shoulder blade, the same spot that he once bit in the throes of their passion. 

“The constellation of your scars makes a fine map, Suntress,” he replies. “I feel compelled to follow the path they show.” 

“Uh-huh. Says the man who never follows paths,” she murmurs. His teeth graze the scarred spot on her left shoulder blade, and the tactile reminder is bringing a slow, warm pulse to life between her legs. 

He leans forward to entrap her between his forearms and presses his lips against her ear. “I follow _your_ path, Suntress. And I’ll follow the path of these victory marks to their inexorable end.” 

His looming posture screams with dominance, his limbs like a cage enclosing her in place, and Aloy gasps at the breathtaking surge of lust that his words and his body bring. He slides down the bed, his mouth marking the myriad small scars on her back, then suddenly he takes hold of her hips and rolls her onto her back again. 

He shoves her legs apart, and Aloy releases an involuntary moan as he nuzzles her smooth inner thigh. “There are no scars there,” she manages to pant. 

Nil lifts his face and smiles slowly at her. The pale grey of his eyes catches the faintest hints of starlight, giving his gaze a demonic glow. “Is that an invitation to give you a new one?” he purrs. 

Aloy scoffs again. “No,” she ripostes, but her body betrays her: her hips rise entreatingly towards his face without her conscious permission.

Nil chuckles against her skin. “Your scent tells the truth, Suntress. I see what you need.” He licks the skin of her thigh right beside the heated pulse of her sex, then gently bites her thigh.

His teeth caress her skin with increasing pressure, and Aloy’s breath comes shorter and shorter as the pain becomes more sharply exquisite. Right when she’s about to tell him to stop, he releases her skin and smoothes his tongue over her wet heat with a long, hot stroke. 

She cries out and arches into him, and her cry is like letting him off his leash: Nil lifts her knees over his shoulders and ravages her pussy with his mouth. 

Aloy slams her head back into the pillow and sinks her fingers into his hair. His lower lip plays across her plump folds with a teasing gentleness, but his tongue is unerring and focused, sliding around her clit with exquisite pressure, and Aloy whimpers with frustration as her climax immediately begins to rise. It’s unfair, too soon, he only just got started- 

Within a few marvelous but woefully short minutes, her rapture rolls over her, and Aloy screams her pleasure into the back of her hand. Nil continues to lap hungrily at the apex of her thighs until the trembling of her body stills, then he lifts his face and grins at her. 

He slides his thumb gently over the tender site of his bite on her thigh, then sighs melodically. “No blood, Suntress. It won’t leave a scar,” he says with mock regret. “Should I try again?” 

Aloy hesitates and bites her lip. She wants to say yes; her mind is clamouring for more, and the residual buzzing of her climax is begging for an encore. But in the faint grey light of night, she can see the scar on his left cheek, the bitemark she left on his shoulder so long ago, and she knows there are more marks sprinkled across his chest…

She sits up and pulls Nil toward her with one hand around the back of his neck, and he obligingly slides close. She kisses him hard and savours the scent of her own pleasure in his facial hair, then presses her lips against his ear. “Your turn,” she whispers. “And I know for a fact that you have more scars than me.” 

Nil chuckles as she shoves him down on the bed. Aloy leans in to kiss the scar on his cheekbone, but before her lips can meet his skin, he slides his hand into her hair and grips it firmly to look her in the eye. 

“I’ll take a real scar, Suntress,” he whispers. “Let the world see the mark you’ve left on me.” 

His voice is a feral growl, but his glowing eyes are tender. Aloy’s lust mellows with affection as he smiles at her, and she leans in to kiss him gently on the lips. 

She’ll give Nil another scar if that’s what he wants. But Aloy needs no visible reminders of the oceanic impact her Carja killer has had on her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh Niloy, how I missed you two... :') 
> 
> If anyone else wants to throw me a kiss prompt, please feel free to check out [this prompt list](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/post/174478357863/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-i-will-write-a). I'll write 'em for a few other ships as well.


	19. Snap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss prompt fill from [this Tumblr list,](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/post/174478357863/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-i-will-write-a) for my darling wifey flight_feather.
> 
> Note: timeline-wise, this takes place before _What Else Matters._

“Access base functions, then reset the MINERVA protocol… It should work… it…” A text alert in a helpfully forbidding red flashed up in Aloy’s Focus display, and she growled with frustration before dropping her screwdriver with a clatter. 

“Damn it,” she hissed, and sat back on her heels. She’d been trying all day to jerry-rig her device to amplify the signals between the Tallnecks, but despite her best efforts, the endeavour was not going well. 

_I need damned parts,_ she thought, and ran a hand through her hair. If she was being perfectly honest, she suspected that she needed information too - some arcane knowledge of the Old Ones’ technology that she just didn’t have - and that’s what was most galling. She’d gone through every bunker and every ruin as thoroughly as she and Nil were able, and she’d collected every document she saw, and _still_ she was incapable of this task that seemed like it should be so simple. 

“Suntress,” Nil called. 

Aloy clenched her jaw and took a deep breath before turning. “Yeah?” she replied. 

Nil sauntered into the mouth of the cave where she was storing her half-finished device. They were about a half-hour’s walk from the Rustwash Tallneck, an easy distance for carrying the device - if only the bloody damn thing would work. 

Nil’s pale grey eyes travelled over her messy workspace and her undoubtedly flushed cheeks. “Take a break. Stretch your legs,” he suggested. He smiled coaxingly at her. “The hunt calls your name, a phantom voice cloaked in blood. There’s a-“ 

“Not _now,_ Nil,” she snapped. “I’m in the middle of something, okay? I can’t come hunting bandits right now. You’re on your own this time.” She turned back to the mess of wires and metal in front of her and picked up her screwdriver. 

A few futile minutes later, the buzzing guilt in her chest finally compelled her to turn around, but Nil was gone. 

Aloy sighed and looked down at her workspace. Then she rose to her feet and left the cave to find her husband. 

He was fifteen meters away, busily looting a Longleg corpse. Aloy raised her eyebrows in surprise; she hadn’t heard the characteristic chaotic ruckus that usually accompanied Nil attacking a machine, but his signature red-fletched arrows in the defunct machine’s power cells were proof of his conquest over the metal beast. 

Sheepishly she approached him, but when he looked up at her, his face was devoid of reproach. He shot her a half-smile, then silently held out his hand. In his palm were the Longleg’s alarm signal antennae - precisely the parts she needed for her project. 

He rose to his feet as Aloy gingerly took the delicate items from his hand. “The screeching tear of metal whets my palate for the fight, but I let it pass this time,” he said. “I thought you could use these.”

Aloy swallowed hard and looked up into his handsome face. There was no expectation in his expression, not even a hint of reproof, and Aloy had been so mean to him...

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I… wasn’t nice. And you took down this Longleg for me...”

“Kiss me again and all is forgiven,” he replied smoothly, but Aloy could see from the humour in his gaze that he already had. 

A heartbreaking pang of guilt squeezed her chest as she rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. He slid his hand onto her hair as he accepted her kiss, and Aloy hugged him tighter, hoping her embrace would convey her apology more clearly than her fumbling words.

Nil might not be bothered by her snappishness, but that was no excuse. If anything, it was all the more reason to keep her temper in check. 

He slowly pulled away from their kiss, then lowered his lips to her ear. “Come hunting with me?” he purred, and Aloy nodded without hesitation.

_I’ll do better next time,_ she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Join me on Tumblr](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) and feel free to throw another one of those prompts at me! Either for Niloy, or for another of my ships :3   
>  xoxo


	20. Tempestuous, Rabbit, Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A three-word prompt fill from @jadefyre on Tumblr. Thanks my love! xo
> 
> The prompt: tempestuous, rabbit, hurt.

“... Fire and spit, Resh just pisses me off,” Suntress rants. “A roof has dry rot in Mother’s Cradle? Must be Aloy’s fault. Some stupid hunter catches a cold after staying out overnight without a bedroll? Must be Aloy’s fault. A Ravager wanders into the Sacred Lands…”

She trails off with a sigh, and Nil turns the spitted rabbit as he waits for her to speak again. In a quieter voice she says, “The machines from the Sundom were bound to wander this way eventually, right?” She looks at him, and despite her anger, he can see the uncertainty in her face. “The patrols at Daytower and Dawn’s Sentinel can’t catch every machine or human that tries to cross over. I mean, they failed to catch _you,_ and you’re the worst kind of intruder.”

“Exactly,” Nil drawls, and they share a sardonic smirk. Then she sighs and lies back, her eyes on the starry sky as she speaks again. “They’re so… suspicious sometimes. Even after… everything. Why do we even come back here?” 

Nil poked the roasting rabbit with his knife as he replied. “Helping the War-Chief and her little pack of warriors. Information from the precious All-Mother Mountain. Getting clothes from the Stitcher-”

“It was a rhetorical question, Nil,” Suntress snaps, and he closes his mouth agreeably and turns the meat again. They sit in a silence for a while. 

Eventually she sighs and sits up, then leans against his shoulder. “Sorry,” she mutters.

He shrugs affably, not at all bothered by her temper. The Nora are a stiff and backward people, a frustrating foil for his tempestuous Suntress, and Nil bears her no grudge when her distaste for them sometimes lashes his way. 

He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Resh has more than earned a visit from my knife,” he murmurs into her hair. “A slip of a blade across the throat, and your problems will be solved. It won’t even hurt. Unless you want it to.”

She leans away and shoots him a chiding look, but the corner of her lips are twitching with amusement. “That’s a terrible joke. You’re disgusting.”

He smirks at her, satisfied at having pulled a smile from her. He removes the rabbit from the fire. “True on both counts, Suntress. Now eat before it gets cold. Heat your blood for whatever comes next. Stupidity is a many-headed beast, but a full stomach will strengthen your resolve.” He chops the rabbit into pieces, then solicitously hands her the most tender piece before taking a steaming piece of meat for himself.

Nil chews and swallows, then glances quizzically at her. “You’re not eating?” he asks. Indeed, she’s sitting with the cooling meat in her hands, a funny little smile on her face as she studies him. 

“You’re sweet,” she says suddenly. “Disgusting, but sweet.” She leans forward and presses a kiss to his lips. 

Nil happily accepts the warmth of her kiss. He’s a killer at heart, a man with voracious violence coiled in the tips of his fingers. But Suntress calls him sweet, and for her and only her, that’s what he can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll probably know this already, but I'm [Pikapeppa on Tumblr](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) if you fancy swinging by to say hi! xo


	21. Upside Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another three-word prompt fill from Tumblr, for @micaela-arg.  
> The prompt: tempestuous, rabbit, hurt. Two of you guys asked for the same prompt! I guess there's something about this prompt that calls to Nil XD

Everything shifted imperceptibly from the moment he first saw her.

He didn’t know it at the time. What he saw was a girl, red of hair and sharp of eye, confident in her steps but alert and tense as a rabbit. 

He couldn’t have known that the world as he knew it had been irrevocably skewed. A narrow-eyed glance, a subtle threat in the first words she ever spoke to him - _danger for you, outlander_ \- and without his knowledge, the foundation of his hard and blackened heart was cracked. 

She was hardened too, a difficult nut to crack. It didn’t occur to him at the time that he wanted to peel back her shell and see what lay beneath. He thought that all he wanted was to bloody some bandits with this odd and intense girl at his side. 

He didn’t realize that with every bandit heart her arrows pierced, she was piercing his own in turn. 

By the time he figured out that she had set his world askew, it was too late. She was staring at him with her hair whipping madly in the breeze at the top of that mesa. Her eyes were no longer narrowed and hard, but soft and sad. 

Then she was gone. 

And he finally realized that she’d taken something with her, something he hadn’t known he needed, and it hurt to breathe without it. 

The knowledge of it was stealthy but swift: hidden at the periphery of his mind one moment, then completely overwhelming once it slammed into his awareness. This odd redheaded girl had shoved him off-kilter, displacing the morbid obsession that lived within his breast and replacing it with something better: something more passionate, something flaming and tempestuous, something quick to snap and quicker to laugh. 

It was _her_. She’d shoved her way into his heart, taking residence beneath the cage of his ribs and helping him to breathe.

Now, he walks by her side with a pair of bangles and a vow to bind them. He stands with his hands in her flaming hair and her hands cradling his heart. He cherishes the soft pliancy of her body in his arms, but he cherishes her sharpness just as much: the cutting sharpness of her tongue and the sharpness of her aim, and the sharpness of her cries when he strokes her to the heights of her ecstasy. 

He fights with her and fucks her, teases her and tracks her steps, pinches her waist and pulls her close. Her constantly working mind and her impeccable aim, her lips around his cock and her arms around his neck - this is where he lives, it’s what he lives for, and he’d sooner burn alive than give her up.

She knocked him upside down, pulled the bloodied rug out from under his feet, and Nil will never look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, friends! I'm [Pikapeppa on Tumblr,](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) if you fancy saying hi. xo


	22. Fatal Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gift drabble for @ilikedetectives on Tumblr, who is so sweet and lovely and a great HZD photographer and DESERVES ALL THE NILOY FLUFF.
> 
> Consider this a quick little throwback to the beginning of the relationship, when Aloy is still in denial about how cute Nil is. XD

Nil placed his thumb gently on Aloy's cheek. "Be still, now."

Aloy swallowed hard at the touch of his thumb, then rolled her eyes belligerently as he brought the coal-tipped stylus toward her eye. "Remind me again why I'm letting you paint my face."

He smirked, but didn't speak until he'd finished the marks under her left eye. "It's not about the look. It's the fine art of intimidation. These marks will be the last things they see when their lives flash before their eyes." He tilted his head and pursed his lips in a mocking expression of thought. "Perhaps one or two will get away, but let them flee. They'll spread the tale of the Nora huntress with the two pairs of eyes: one pair that brings life, and one pair that heralds death."

She wrinkled her nose. "One pair that brings life? How do you figure?"

He shot her a slow smile. "How else would you explain the rush of joy that these fatal encounters bring?" he said. He carefully painted her right under-eye, then leaned back and studied her face. "Don't deny the rush, Suntress. I live for these moments. I know you do too." 

She shook her head. "Nil, I told you - I don't enjoy this." She stood and headed toward the bandit camp before he could see the flushing of her cheeks. 

He caught up to her easily with his graceful lope. "And yet we continue to find each other," he mused. "If it's not the blissful scent of blood, there must be something else that draws you in."

Her face grew even hotter at his purposefully bland tone of voice. She threw him a dirty look. "Be quiet," she said firmly. "We're getting close." She pulled her bow from her back and crouched in a nearby thatch of grass.

He drew his own bow and crouched beside her. "As you say, Suntress. Life and death, blood and breath: I follow your command."

She bit back a smile as she notched an arrow in her bow. Nil might not be the most - well, reasonable - company to keep, but she could say this much for him: he was a good partner.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this beautiful photo](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/post/181501002168/vgtravlr-hzd-absinthe-a-little-aloynil) by @vgtravlr on Tumblr, whom I love very very much.

Sometimes her eyes are the colour of whisky. When she stares into a fire, her gaze is undeniably golden, and Nil enjoys these moments. He watches as she sends flaming arrows into her enemies’ camps, and he enjoys the way her eyes reflect the glorious shades of destruction that she’s wrought. She’s a demon of fire and blood, and her face is a perfect picture of this: the red of her lips, the russet of her unruly hair, and the gilded shining gold of her eyes all fall together in a whirlwind of perfect violence.

Other times, however, her eyes are the colour of absinthe. 

Rain falls in the forest and drips on her face, and the eyes she lifts to the sky are as green as the leaves above their heads. The light of the moon renders her golden skin to a pearlescent paleness, and in this cool nighttime light, the grassy shade of her eyes is greener than ever.

Nil tips her chin up to face him, and the corners of those glowing green eyes crinkle in a smile. He stares into her eyes, falls into them, drinks them in until he’s drowning in those perfect verdant pools.

Her eyes are the colour of absinthe, and Nil is utterly and completely drunk on her.

**Author's Note:**

> I am [Pikapeppa on Tumblr,](https://pikapeppa.tumblr.com/) if anyone wants to come and talk Niloy with me! xoxo


End file.
